


Heaven's Empty Throne

by Nechangi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Plot, Action, Archangels, Ceres/Dementer, Cupids, Dionysus/Bacchus, Drama, Fenris - Freeform, Gabriel (Supernatural) is Loki, Heaven, Humor, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Monsters, Pagan Gods, Romance, Thor - Freeform, Wing Kink, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 136,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nechangi/pseuds/Nechangi
Summary: After taking on a significant vow to another angel Gabriel is forced to find a safe haven, not knowing how difficult his undertaking will be. Before he finds this place, however, he crosses paths with Castiel and his pets, and is then ‘invited’ to stay at ‘The Safest Place on Earth’, which sounds like a pretty good shelter, if you ask him.This is a story of how Sam and Gabriel are awesome. And wins. The End.Bless the sassiness.





	1. "Just Desserts" or prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First SPN-fic.... O.O  
> I'm terrified
> 
> Uploaded: 2018-04-02  
> Words: 5 200
> 
> CHAPTER SUMMARY:  
> Gabriel kills a dog

**Chap. 1**   
**"Just Desserts" or Prologue**

Gabriel wandered along a street in an industrial area in the outer part of the city. In the darkness of the night he relaxed and listened in on his brethren in heaven. They were having an interesting discussion of how they should govern themselves. The kind of democratic rule where everyone interested got a say was very inefficient and many wished for a single angel to lead them, like they were used to.

Their chatter had become more civil after heaven was retaken from Metatron, but there was still the periodic clash between individuals. Unlike before, angels intervened in the fighting and stopped it before any serious injuries would occur. Of course, there was still an occasional death here and there, but heaven was much calmer than what it had been ever since he left.

He’d heard that Castiel’s name was mentioned a lot when it came to leaders, but the stubborn angel refused with the excuse that he didn’t deserve it after the slaughter that he’d committed when he’d swallowed purgatory. Some agreed with him, but most argued that Raphael and his followers had a death-toll much higher than him. Gabriel concurred that Castiel should lead them, but he never voiced his opinion, partially because he was the last, free archangel and therefore his word would carry weight, and partially because he was supposed to be dead.

He’d felt his own blade kill him. He’d felt the pain as it burrowed into his flesh and as it burned a hole in his grace, infecting it all like burning strings of poison. It wasn’t pleasant, but he supposed death never was. He’d been dead before he’d hit the ground and his grace had blasted off from his vessel, burning the image of wings into the floor. And then he’d found himself standing on the other side of the planet. He’d been confused. He didn’t feel as if he’d been in the presence of his Father, nor the incredible feeling of having life blown into him, as when he was first created. Now he was just there. Standing under a tree, and listening to the sound of his grace ringing out his death like a giant bell to all the other celestial beings. It made him understand why Castiel later had such a hard time explaining to the other angels why he was alive and that he hadn’t seen their Father. Castiel had been dead one moment and then there the next, just like Gabriel.

Gabriel had taken the hint and decided to stay out of everything after his death. If the apocalypse came he would let it, if it didn’t he wouldn’t do anything to cause it. It had been fine. He’d set up a home in Indonesia, and continued with his life. He’d dealt out ironic punishments to people who needed and deserved it, and from time to time gave away blessings. Nothing large, as he didn’t want any angels to sense that someone was using divine powers and come to investigate. His pagan powers were great for causing mischief, even though he would occasionally use it to aid people, but it was funnier to empower it with his grace and twist reality to a greater degree.

He’d gotten a few hunters on his tail and he’d enjoyed messing with them. One of them even became his worshipper after meeting him; it was amusing to Gabriel. Everything was fine, until Metatron had summoned him. The scribe had somehow known that he wasn’t dead and Gabriel blamed it on the fact that the schmuck was powered by The Word of God. He’d fought against it, but it was a true summon and he found himself dragged back to heaven and then dumped in the States. In exchange for silence, the archangel had to play a part in getting Castiel to lead the angels, and would then be free to leave. Metatron had stood by his word, but Gabriel didn’t doubt for a second that the Scribe wouldn’t call him again if he needed him to do something. What Gabriel found stranger was the fact that Castiel never announced to the other angels that he was still alive; maybe he’d doubted his own experience.

* * *

The archangel smirked amused as he got to the end of the industrial area and walked through a hole in the fence. He knew that underneath the bridge that was ahead of him a middle-aged man was living, one that had helped him in the past. Gabriel turned invisible as he strolled down the path and saw how small fires burned in rusty old bins. It had been years since he last visited, but he’d heard the man tell the story of the little fairy that helped him earlier that day.

He observed the people that were living under the bridge and saw that two of the residents had moved away and three new had arrived since the last time. The man, John, who had seen the ‘fairy’ still had his green scarf that ‘she’ had given to him the first time they met; it was made from ‘gabrillok’ and would keep him from getting ill. As Gabriel’s teeth flashed in a smile the fire in one of the bins flared up several meters and turned green before they returned to normal.

“Lei!” John called out and got up from the ground. Gabriel watched as the ball of weak light flew up from the bin and looped around before heading to the man.

“John!” the little fairy called out as she got closer to the man, her voice not louder than a small squeak, “how have you been?”

“Good,” the man in the green scarf grinned before he turned to his neighbors and pointed to the fairy, “it’s Lei! Can you see her?”

Gabriel restrained a chuckle at the sight of the man’s incredible excitement, and smiled at the fact that everyone in the camp was just staring in shock; this was amusing.

“Yeah,” the one in a red cap, the one John had been talking with confessed and got up to take a closer look at the fairy, “I’m Gavin, by the way.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gavin,” Gabriel made the fairy say and fluttered in front of his face before she flew over to John and settled down on his shoulder.

“Won’t you get in trouble for being here?” John asked the fairy as the people started to gather around him.

“Oh, not all fairies can be good _all_ the time! I can be a really bad girl!” Lei giggled and looked around on the five that gathered around, “who are your friends?”

“These are Evan,” John pointed to the youngest in the crowd, only around twenty years. “Andrew,” he pointed to a man around his own age, but with a large unruly beard, who looked like he’d been living out in the woods. “Rachel,” the woman with a dark grey jacket nodded a greeting. “and Tyler,” the man pointed to the oldest of them all.

“No one’s going to believe this,” Evan stated in a half-whisper.

“But that’s good! If they did believe you I’d might get in trouble!” Lei chimed and flashed a bit stronger as she giggled and flew around them at such a speed that the ball of light almost became a line around them. Lei hovered in front of the old man, Tyler, and then touched his nose. The fairy withdrew from him and the man gasped before he looked around.

“I can see!” he called out and made Gabriel smile; humans felt such joy for fixing small things. The man hadn’t been blind, but not far from it.

Lei landed on John’s shoulder and gasped; the trickster decided that she was exhausted from using magic as he didn’t wish for anyone to demand more from him. It had happened on multiple occasions that when he gave something away, someone wanted more. One plea for more he could stand, but if there were many he would get hostile and dash out punishments instead. Gabriel gave what Gabriel wanted to give, to whomever _he_ selected. Nothing less, nothing more.

For a while the humans gathered around the fairy and asked questions, but it quickly ended up with Gabriel having to make up stories of what happened in her homeland. With a mischievous grin he came up with new ideas and invited the humans over to ‘Avalon’. Amused by how easily humans were to manipulate, Gabriel made them gather thin twigs in Avalon because Lei needed firewood for the coming years and as a ‘thank you’ gave them a feast of food before returning them to their home. Gabriel watched them speak about the impossible and listened to their thoughts as they watched the stars above them. They spoke late into the night and when the people lay down to sleep a fluttering of wings was heard, and the archangel had left.

* * *

Gabriel threw himself on top of his maroon satin bed and comfortably sank down into it. He really wasn’t a ‘do-gooder’, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself; some people just drew that part out of him. Most of the time when he tried to help, however, it didn’t go over too well. He’d tried to help Sam Winchester understand that he couldn’t stop destiny, but the hunter had only gotten more and more resilient in his belief that fighting it was the right way. Not even the archangel had bothered to keep track of how many times Dean Winchester died, but it was impressive that it only made Sam defiant. And as it turned out. The brothers had been right. You can fight destiny. And you _can_ win. It had turned Gabriel’s world upside down.

The archangel had been certain that what his Father said was final; at least that’s how it had been when only heaven existed. Gabriel had thought about it and came to the conclusion that maybe that was why his Dad liked humanity so much. Because humans would willingly stand in His way and fight His word, and they could change His perceived outcome, _or maybe_ his Father had known all along that the human apocalypse never would happen. Gabriel had never been certain when it came to his Father’s thoughts.

As he waited for dawn to come and for the humans to resume their daily life Gabriel eavesdropped on his fellow celestials again. He ignored the conversation about governance and listened for the quieter conversations; those tended to be more interesting.

An angel was questioning a cupid, demanding to know where all of them had gone. The cupid trembled under the angel’s massive stature. The little creature of love only had fourth of the height of the skyscraper-tall warden-angel. The cupid answered that their kind would be back when they stopped being frightened; he promised that they would return, one by one. Gabriel sighed; he knew that after the fall, Metatron’s rule and then heaven’s unlocking most of the cupids were still missing. Heaven had retaken the task of getting certain bloodlines to continue and the lack of cupids had almost stopped the process, but the wardens weren’t approaching the cupids the right way.

Gabriel had heard heaven’s horn blow out threats and orders for the cupids to return, but their actions had probably only frightened the cupids further and made them hide wherever they were. Cupids were not creatures of war, they were fragile romantics and they could actually hide from all other angels, even the archangels. Gabriel suspected that if the wardens instead of threatening with punishment tried saying that they were missed or that ‘all was forgiven’ the cupids would return, but most celestials considered themselves above the cupids and would never try to sweet-talk them home.

With a deep breath Gabriel wiggled his body and sank slightly deeper into the bed. He plopped a lollipop into his mouth, licked it and played with it, placed his hands behind his head and conjured up a blonde, beautiful woman by his side. She wore a dark blue bikini and without a word she began massaging his chest and shoulders through his shirt. He hummed contently even though the touch was as fake as if he was trying to tickle himself, but it was better than nothing. He glazed over dialogs and rolled his eyes at what he heard. The angels really could be divas and drama queens; humans would probably love the reality show that heaven consisted of, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Gabriel had heard their arguments a million times he would’ve been amused. Angels really needed to learn a lesson or two, and throwing them out of heaven was a pretty good punishment, if it wasn’t for the tremendous damage they caused everywhere else.

Joshua, who tended to the Garden of Eden, was accusing Raqib of taking seeds from it and giving it to a soul in paradise. Raqib in turn insisted that the only rule was to not bring seeds down to Earth. Joshua argued that they weren’t supposed to interact with the souls, but Raqib claimed that it was just an extension of his appointed duty to see what actions the human soul decided to take. Atid who worked closely with Raqib then decided to join their conversation and state that their actions weren’t harming anyone and the soul was increasingly bright. Gabriel heard nothing more from Joshua and guessed that the angel had become annoyed by the others’ rebellious actions. The archangel grinned; ever since Castiel and the Winchesters averted the apocalypse angels had become slightly more disobedient and stretched the rules. They were trying out their free will and that was partly what had made Raphael lose so many followers. Most angels were tired of bloodshed, just like Gabriel.

The archangel shifted his attention and crossed over conversations about rules, their unresponsive Father, the apocalypse, their previously constant war and then listened in on an angel that was being reprimanded for trashing Metatron’s nest. Hashmal, the superior angel, only half-heartedly told Nakir that he shouldn’t have done it even though she thought that Metatron rather should’ve been killed than imprisoned. Nakir agreed, but stated that he’d been looking for anything that could contain Castiel’s grace. Gabriel listened as Nakir and the superior agreed to ignore the mess Metatron’s nest was in and began to discuss which areas of heaven that had been searched so far, but finding a vial of grace in heaven was like looking for a needle in a field of needles.

The archangel sighed sadly. He’d heard of Castiel’s lost grace. He’d heard that the angel had gotten it back, but then that it wasn’t his; it was Theo’s grace, and it was decaying. Castiel had been near death and then gotten another dose of grace. Gabriel hadn’t heard from who, or how. Some had worried that the former godlike seraph was going to continue to steal others’ grace, but Castiel had calmed most of those worries by saying that he had accepted that he was going to die and he didn’t want any more blood on his hands. Castiel wanted nothing with leadership to do, and apparently he was eagerly waiting for the time when he’d be able to eat and taste peanut butter the way humans experienced it.

Gabriel had listened in closely to the storm of questions that had followed Castiel’s statement. Celestials were curious creatures and had feelings, even though they denied it most of the time, but those feelings were nothing compared to the storm that was human emotion. The archangel had been on Earth for millennia and his grace had melded nicely into the vessel he’d made, so unlike other celestial beings he could chose to disregard the taste of all molecules when he ate something and focus solely on the human aspect of taste. Oh, how he loved the sweet taste of sugar.

He smiled a bit to himself; he was in a rather large city, so there had to be creatures of different kinds, or maybe he could find some other pagan god to hang out with. With no time to waste he got up and felt his multidimensional wings spread behind him. The illusion of the bed and the woman vanished from the room in the abandoned building and Gabriel flew into a parallel dimension. He felt like himself, but he knew that he looked like a ball of light here.

He watched the city below him. Mostly white human souls lit up this dimension, but there were different ones down there. Darker, and different colored. He saw the unmistakable shine of graces and knew that there were three other angels in the city. One alone and the other two together. He suspected that the two that were hanging out wouldn’t be interested in him at all, so he kept a watchful eye on the single angel while he soared through the sky. Just as Gabriel found a gathering of multi-colored souls in a building the single angel at the other end of town shot up into the sky, looking like a ball of light.

He felt it try to contact him, letting him know that it was a seraph as a warden wouldn’t have been able to see him, but he left their shared dimension before they would recognize each other and fell towards Earth while concealing his grace as a darkened human soul. Closer to the ground he saw that he was heading towards one of the more high-end places so he shifted his clothes to a fancy suit and red shirt. He grew a small handlebar moustache, but kept his hair as it was. He created a fedora and placed it on his head before he pulled out a silver-decorated umbrella from thin air. He opened it and used it to fall in a more pleasant pace. The umbrella was an idea he’d shamelessly stolen from Mary Poppins. 

He smirked as his shiningly black shoes touched ground in the darkness of the park. He twirled his moustache and folded the umbrella, making it into a walking cane with a silvery handle. With a content smile on his lips and a swing in his steps he made his way towards an enormous building. The structure had the front made of large windows, and was nicely designed with lights illuminating it. From the boards outside Gabriel could read that it had live music, bars, several art exhibits and a couple of smaller meetings.

The trickster took a deep breath through his nose as he got inside; mostly humans, but he could smell a few exceptions on the first floor. As he walked thought the building he passed a corridor that held an interesting concoction of scents and followed it to a set of stairs. Downstairs he found more traces of non-human fragrances and he followed them to a bar full of humans. A door beyond the human smorgasbord was guarded by a large man with skin so black it was barely human, but the archangel could see that something was wrong about him, so he was definitely not human. Gabriel walked over, feeling as if he recognized the creature and met the guard’s eyes. The man’s eyes only glared at him as he neared and Gabriel smirked back, stopping straight in front of him and leaned in.

“Knock, knock, Spots. Is Hades home?” the archangel asked, making deductions based on the large man’s short hair; Gabriel knew of only one creature that had hairs that black; it was almost as if it sucked up the light around it and devoured it. The guard’s eyes turned completely black, but unlike demons’ they held a thin white pupil crossing the eye horizontally. The man showed his teeth in what could be a snarl, revealing two large canine teeth and showed that the guess was right.

“Never call me that,” the creature by the name Cerberus growled and eyed him with an angry stare.

“I must confess that I barely recognized you in that form,” Gabriel smirked up at Cerberus with a flirty wink, “I must say that you look much more dazzling as a beast. Your fur puts all goddesses to shame.” The guard bent forward and sniffed the angel’s neck, making it look as if Gabriel was whispering something to him.

“Loki,” Cerberus identified in an inhumanly deep and gravelly voice as he recognized the scent of the pagan god and pulled away, “you can’t charm me. I will bite you.” The evil eye that Gabriel got made him chuckle and wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, as if he liked that idea. “There will be no disturbances,” the guard warned before turning more human, stepped to the side and opened the door.

Gabriel, known better as the Nordic god Loki, entered a corridor lit with weak golden crystals that hung from the ceiling and with mirrors on the walls. He smirked amused as he turned a corner and ended up in one end of a large room. Blue fires in marble pots decorated the area, and smaller copies of them stood on each table. No one was disguising what they were and Gabriel licked his lips excitedly; should he fraternize with gods or creatures? Two gryphons were speaking with a gang of werewolves, but the female gryphon seemed bored, and those wings were absolutely gorgeous, however, the male gryphon might be her boyfriend, and Gabriel didn't feel like killing anyone tonight. A bit of holy oil could make them even better. A single simurgh with copper colored wings by one of the bars drew the trickster’s attention as she stretched her wings high in the air.

Gabriel smirked and teleported to where the simurgh was leaning on the desk. A couple of vampires around him gasped in shock as he showed up out of nowhere. A bartender a bit away gave him an irritated look as he leaned with his back on the bar and gave the simurgh a flirty smile.

“You sure are a sight,” Gabriel sighed dreamily at the woman with the copper colored wings and brown hair, seeing her smile a bit warily. “The name’s Loki,” the archangel gently took her furry hand in his and gave it a kiss. Quietly he wondered where on her body the yellow lion fur ended and her skin turned to that of a bronzed human. “And what’s the name of such a wonderful simurgh?”

“Azar,” the woman answered and pursed her lightly pink lips while evaluating him, “and you’re an… _immortal_.”

“Trickster, and a god of the North, to be exact.”

“Ah, I knew I’ve heard your name before,” the woman smiled and gave him an evaluating stare, clearly considering him as a possible catch. Gabriel grinned and turned so that he faced the bar by her side.

“I know a place by a lake. I’m sure we could purify it _together_.” His comment seemed to have landed right as her polite smile turned amused and an arm wrapped around his waist, caressing his back in the process.

“I wish I could,” Azar sighed longingly and thanked the bartender when he placed a pink drink in front of her and then placed a baby-blue in front of the archangel.

“Trickster, sweet,” the bartender nodded to the surprised Gabriel, “first one’s on the house.”

“How about this,” the simurgh smirked and leaned in so close that their bodies touched, “I get a good kiss, and send you on your way, so you don’t have to waste any more time on me. I’m waiting for someone; it’s business.” She pulled him closer with her wing and Gabriel smiled, feeling the feathers on his own wings turn soft and silky at the intimate gesture even though they were hidden within his vessel.

“I’d love to,” he grinned and pulled her into a long kiss. Her lion-claws were carefully dragged over his neck and sent shivers through his body. Gabriel couldn’t help but to grin as they parted. “I’m sad that I won’t be able to preen those beautiful wings.”

“Stay charming, and you might just get to do that, _if_ we meet again,” Azar smiled as she turned her attention to her drink and Gabriel took his glass and left.

Throughout the night he danced and talked with any and all creatures. Most of the people inside were vampires, shapeshifters and werewolves, but Gabriel had the luck of running into two pagan gods that he knew since before. Hades who owned the place, and Dionysus who had just showed up to drink, dance and go crazy after Hades apparently had returned some favor. Gabriel was curious, but couldn’t get either to budge on what they had been up to.

With a bit of help from Dionysus’ special never-ending-wine-bottles Gabriel didn’t look like he had to drink much to get drunk, but he still managed to keep his mind on questioning the people there about what was going on in the town. When the sun began to rise, most creatures had left and Gabriel found himself walking down a narrow road. He had lost his hat, umbrella, moustache and fancy clothes, and wore his comfortable black shirt and worn, green jacket, a pair of dark jeans and tennis shoes. Even though he could rid himself of the alcohol he had in his body as easily as he could heal a wound he smiled and continued on his path. He was staring down on the ground and focused hard to take straight steps, which failed miserably, much to his intoxicated amusement.

He sank down to the ground and leaned against the concrete bottom of a building, allowing the sunlight to warm him and his fuzzy mind. Slowly, the world around him started to come to life. More and more people passed on the street, and more cars began to drive to-and-from work. Gabriel looked to a passer-by’s watch and saw that the time was just half past six. As he comfortably sunbathed and resisted the urge to purr he saw a dog come out of an alley on the other side of the street. The dog sat down by a door to a bakery and waited, looking at people, just like Gabriel.

For a few minutes the dog just sat there, but then he got up and waved his tail. A woman with brown curly hair showed up to the door and unlocked it. The dog waved his tail at her, but her dark, chocolate colored hands were full with boxes so she couldn’t greet it. Gabriel watched how the woman went inside and the dog stood outside the door. The alcohol was still buzzing in his system when he saw a bulky man walk by. Gabriel barely even registered him, but then the man ground to a halt and looked down to the dog. Out of nowhere the man spun around and used his built up force to kick the medium sized dog, who yelped in pain and went flying. Gabriel’s mind was cleared of alcohol the second he saw what happened, and anger at the cruel action flooded his mind. With a hand in the air and two fingers pressed against each other he was fractions away from making the man’s head explode, but the act would traumatize all the passer-byes and they had done nothing to deserve being punished.

The people around the scene stopped in their day-to-day life and stared shocked at the wailing dog that was trying to get away from the man, but he wasn’t able to use his hind legs. The large man huffed and continued his walk. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was huge, muscular and covered in tattoos, people might have stopped him, but now no one dared. The dog whimpered and grew quiet, but panicked as a man tried to approach. Gabriel wrinkled his nose in disgust and removed the cover to the sewers as the man was about to cross it. With a surprised scream the man was gone and the people around chuckled a bit, jokingly saying to the stranger beside them that it was divine punishment. As Gabriel crossed the street he saw that the woman who owned the bakery was sitting beside the dog and the crowd had continued on their daily routine.

“-dot, I’m so sorry,” Gabriel heard the woman say as he closed in on her and made a pained grimace when he could see that the dog’s spine must’ve been broken.

“I can’t believe some people,” the archangel stated as he crouched down and carefully touched the dog’s fur, “I saw it all from the other side of the street.”

“What happened? I was in the back and heard Godot scream,” the young woman revealed in a troubled voice while petting the whining dog, and Gabriel took a breath before telling her what he’d seen. When he finished she was furious.

“I hope he broke his neck when he fell!” she growled angrily, making Gabriel tilt his head; wishes like _that_ could easily be arranged, but for now the man was just stuck in the sewers since the trickster had removed the lowest steps on the ladders around the area. The woman made a move, as if she wanted to pick up the dog, but stopped herself.

“What am I going to do?” she asked herself more than the angel, “I can’t take him inside without causing pain, I can’t afford to bring him to the vet and I can’t just leave him out here.” Without answering Gabriel placed two fingers on the dog’s head and made it fall into eternal sleep. It hurt him to smite the dog. He could’ve healed it, but instead he killed it. It was a stray, it wasn’t getting enough food, it had no home, it had felt pain from walking on an old broken leg, it had bad eyes and a torn ear. But it was all just excuses.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel whispered and stroke the ragged fur. Without any further conversation he got up from the ground and walked away.

Still feeling angry from the man’s action he decided to cause trouble for someone who deserved it. He quickly found himself outside a police station and headed inside. There were a lot of people waiting and the only free desk clerk was busy talking in the phone. Without a care in the world he walked across the room and used a bit of his powers to open a locked door. He found himself in an empty corridor, but he could hear officers working. The trickster wiggled his shoulders and found himself dressed in a pristine uniform. He walked through the corridor and stopped by an opening, but the room was an office area where all the phones and computers were being used, so he continued walking. As he reached a door to a smaller area he saw what appeared to be a computer room. With a small smirk he went inside and began to search for people in need of punishment.

Gabriel knew that he couldn’t draw too much attention to himself so he searched for people that didn’t need a deadly prank, but like with most things he did; it escalated bit by bit.


	2. Playing Catch Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam hits on Cas, Cas is confused, and the sheriff hunts a dirtbag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-03  
> Words: 4 400

Sam sat alone by the table in the library and the only thing that could be heard in the bunker was the occasional turning of a page or the tapping of his computer keys. His head was heavy with all the translating he was doing and his eyes were dry. With a quiet groan he rubbed his eyelids and placed a piece of paper in between the pages as a bookmark before he closed the old tome. The large man stretched out and opened a new page on the computer with the intent of searching for a case.

Both of the brothers were going crazy by sitting inside and doing research, and Dean was beginning to go out on increasingly frequent supply runs; completely unnecessary runs, but Sam had heard from the angel that he and Castiel had checked out a few presumably haunted houses in the area without finding anything.

The hunter stared at the search tab for a moment not knowing what to comb the internet for. With a low sigh he left his chair and went to the kitchen to get an apple. Not that he was hungry; he just wanted something to do.

With a piece of apple in his mouth he heard his mobile ring from its place on the library table and ran to it, or not as much _ran_ as took a few faster and longer steps. The display only showed ‘hidden number’ and for a second, he debated whether or not to answer, but it could be another hunter so he decided to let his curiosity win out.

“Hello,” he greeted in the phone.

“Samwise! My trusted comrade,” a joyful female voice called out in the phone and made the hunter smile.

“Charlie!” Sam replied happily, “how have you been?”

“Great, well, more like good. I’ve set up a new life, again. I miss Oz from time to time. How are things? What’s up?” the woman answered in a quick pace and listened as the hunter complained that they were getting nowhere in the research on the mark and were going crazy staying cooped up in the bunker.

“That’s great! Well, not the ‘going nuts’-part, but it’s great that you are free, because I think I’ve found you a case in Arizona. Well, it wasn’t actually I who found it, it was a friend, but it’s something strange. And strange is, kind of, your department,” Charlie declared and let a small, nervous chuckle escape her lips.

“Great, what is it?” Sam smiled eagerly and sat down by his computer, letting the apple roll away on the table.

“I’m e-mailing the information I’ve gathered so far,” the hacker barely had time to finish her statement before Sam’s mail account announced a new mail, and he opened it.

“Two months ago a sales manager froze to death, during one of the hottest days this year. His boss drowned on dry land the day after, there was no trace of water on him. The cleaning lady at a fancy hotel died after climbing into the hotel’s industrial dryer. It turned on by itself. They all went to the University of Arizona, whereas the two salesmen took the same medical course. I found two other deaths that I haven’t been able to tie to the first three, but they got run over by a train, in the middle of nowhere, and according to the schematics I pulled up from the regional train district the rails are not connected to anything, so it’s pretty much a haunted track, but the run-over guys died last week,” Charlie chatted in a cheery voice, “a doctor who was in the same class as one of the salesmen actually choked on his own tongue, which according to my trusted internet is impossible to do. It apparently has something to do with the fact that you choke on your own vomit if the tongue lies in a certain way, but you can’t choke on your tongue. Yet this doctor did.”

“This is great work, Charlie! You’re amazing! I’ll call Dean and we’ll head out, thank you,” Sam rabbled quickly as he eyed through the pictures and then disconnected the call before he pushed a single digit to speed-dial.

“We’ve got a case,” the younger hunter informed his brother the moment the phone was answered.

“Really? A real case?” Dean asked eagerly through the low hum of the Impala, “what is it?”

“I don’t know. People have been dying in impossible ways. Nothing’s been eaten so it could be a ghost, or a witch.”

“Ghost; awesome. Witch; not so awesome. We’ll be back in twenty minutes, so pack your bag. Grab some snacks from the fridge and get my bag from my room.”

“You’ve got a bag packed?” Sam asked with a smile; he’d never thought that Dean would have it ready after having settled down in the bunker, but maybe it was just the result from having grown up prepared.

“Shut up,” was the only thing his brother answered before a click was heard.

* * *

They drove through the night and the entire next day, and late at night they pulled into an old motel. The neon light in the sign had lost many letters and the younger of the brothers was suspecting that the rooms were going to be disgusting. However, as they opened the door to a three-bed room Sam stopped just inside. Dean never was one to care about the lodgings, and never had been. The older Winchester was happy as long as it wasn’t raining on him.

Sam felt a small tug in his lips as he walked up to the bed furthest from the door and saw that the room was decorated to look old and rugged. The reason the place looked rundown was because it was dark and Sam suspected that it would look quite nice and rustic once the sun came up.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Sam commented to the other two in the team. Dean stopped in the middle of removing his shirt and threw a glance to his brother, seeing him look around the room.

“Whatever,” Dean muttered and tore off his clothes, leaving him in boxers; he was tired from driving and admiring the place was certainly not going to happen.

“It is unusually clean,” Castiel agreed once he figured out what they were talking about and continued to stare at the third bed, the one closest to the door, wondering why they had even bothered to get a bed for him.

“G’night,” the older hunter muttered and crawled underneath the cover while his brother stripped down to underwear.

“Cas,” Sam said to the angel that was still standing in his trench coat and got him to move his attention from the bed to the human, “I know that you won’t be sleeping, but you can sit by the computer, research, go out or do whatever angels do.”

“I’ll watch over you,” Castiel informed seriously as Sam got into bed and made Dean immediately sit up.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned the angel and pointed at him, “you’re _not_ staring at me when I sleep.”

“I won’t,” Castiel promised as he turned off the light and then lay down on his own bed, looking straight into the ceiling and if it hadn’t been for his chest moving he’d looked like a corpse in a coffin. Dean glared at him for a second through the darkness and then decided to ignore him and go to sleep.

* * *

Sam was the first to wake and was not surprised to find Castiel by the small table to the right of the door.   
“You slept well,” the angel stated softly and Sam knew that he didn’t mean it as a greeting; he had probably not moved much in his sleep, which meant few nightmares.

“Good morning,” the hunter answered quietly, knowing that his brother wasn’t going to wake up from it, and looked around, seeing that Castiel had pushed his bed together with Sam’s, but the human doubted that he’d used it. “Found anything interesting?” the hunter asked and ignored the lightly wrinkled sheets on the bed.

“Charlie sent over the victims’ financial records. I’ve marked out which parts of town they frequented,” the angel looked up to the wall and Sam lean forward so he could see what his friend was looking at; Castiel had gotten a large map of the city and the surrounding area and taped it to the wall. He’d moved the bed to get better access to the map. Marks showed where the victims had purchased things and the different colors told them which person had been where.

“There was a man almost pecked to death by roosters during the night, which I believe to be peculiar since human beings are considerably stronger than poultry. Mr. Hunt remains in critical condition, but I’ve been looking over his financials and found that he and Mr. Miles, one of the men that was hit by the train, performed a transaction at a gas station minutes from each other on multiple occasions. It is a possibility that they had contact.”

“Thank you, Cas,” Sam smirked and got out of bed, interrupting the angel that would probably have continued his layout, and without thinking added; “you’re amazing.”

“I-,” Castiel tilted his head ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes, “this is what you and Dean would’ve done if you were awake. I don’t see how this work alters your perception of me.” Sam smiled amused; it was great to have a mighty angel as a friend, even though he really was bad at accepting a thankful compliment, but at least Castiel was one of the few that didn’t call him ‘girly’ or ‘disgusting abomination’ to his face.

“It doesn’t alter my perception of you. What I’m trying to say is that I’m grateful for your work.” Sam wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a small smile.

“No need to thank me,” the angel turned back to the computer and continued to try and find a connection between the two sets of victims. 

* * *

Dean had woken up when his alarm rung and glared at the two that were sitting by the table working. His brother showered, dried and dressed for FBI-business while Castiel had shed his beloved trench coat in order to look more like an agent.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel said as he turned to the face that was glaring, knowing that he would be yelled at if he stated that the older Winchester hadn’t slept as well as Sam. “We think it could be a cursed object or a ghost tethered to something,” he informed as Dean got up and stretched with a groan, “there’s been another attack, but Mr. Hunt is still alive at the hospital.”

“The guy is the best lead we’ve got,” Sam continued and turned to see Dean head to the bathroom, “and if it a vengeful spirit, it will probably go after Hunt again.” 

“I’ll be ready in ten,” Dean answered and closed the door.

* * *

Castiel and Dean went to interview the victim while Sam had headed to the station. He told Sheriff Bates that the FBI was looking into the stranger deaths that had occurred and was surprised when the man did a bad job restraining a laugh.

“Agent Lucas, some people are born idiots,” Bates explained and turned to an officer, “Newman, could you get me my ‘Imp’ and ‘Dar’ boxes from deaths?” The young Newman had nodded and vanished into the file room while the older man with a whitening moustache and greying hair had showed Sam into his office.

“Back in the day, Agent,” the sheriff began as he sat down behind his desk with his cup of coffee and gestured for Sam to sit down opposite to him, “stupid people would be eaten by animals or starve. It’s called natural selection. Nowadays, they die stupid deaths. We had a guy that went to a black-market doctor and requested both of his kidneys to be removed. He then sold them to the doctor and walked into the hospital when he was starting to turn yellow. All because he’d overheard a guy in a bar boasting about how much money he’d gotten selling his kidney. We arrested the doctor for illegal practice, but the guy still died.” The man took a sip from his cup and shook his head. “You want strange deaths, Agent? This is a big city, and we’ve got ‘em. Is there anyone in particular that you’re interested in?”

“Yea,” Sam stated and opened a file that he’d brought with him. “What do you know about John Miles and Adam Holt?”

“How’d they die?”

“Run over by a train, just outside town.”

“Oh, the ghost train,” the sheriff hummed and shook his head.

“Ghost?” Sam asked, interested, “you believe in ghosts?”

“You kiddin’? I stay clear of any and all cases that has anything to do with that shit,” Bates shivered and Sam knew that he probably had prior experience.

“I believe too,” Sam admitted, pretending to be shameful of it, “sorry to pry, but what happened to make you believe?” The sheriff stared at him while he took a long sip from his coffee, debating whether or not to tell the Fed.

“Off the record,” the man murmured.

“Off the record,” the hunter agreed with a sharp nod.

“I had a case. People went missing from an apartment building and then from the station, but the case isn’t important. I stayed late one night and I saw it. It got cold and the walls froze. I tried shooting it, but nothing worked. I would’ve died if it wasn’t for a woman. Showed up out of nowhere, wielding a poker from a fireplace and saved my ass. She told me that it was a violent spirit and that iron and salt were the only thing that bit.” The man shook his head and made a lazy gesture to the wall with a smirk. An iron fire poker hung beside a medal for bravery from the military. “Saved my ass, poured something over the entire evidence room and put it on fire.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the fact that someone had burnt down the evidence room to get a ghost.

“It was a long time ago and in a small community, but I’ve been avoiding all cases that could have anything to do with ghosts. I just wait for one of you guys to show up, or another hunter.”

“Hunter?” Sam asked.

“Yea, that’s what she called herself before kicking me out a window for being curious. Pretty as a doll, but tougher than any soldier I’ve-,” the man interrupted his story as a knock on the glass of his door was heard and nodded to the person.

“Sir, I’ve got the files,” the officer informed as he opened the door, “do you want them in your office?”

“No, Newman, bring them to meeting room 2,” Bates requested and got up, making Sam copy the action, “if it’s okay with you, Agent, I will be giving you a private space to work.”

“That’ll be perfect,” Sam smiled and followed Newman to a room with large windows towards the desk area so he would be able to see if anyone approached. He watched as the young officer placed two large boxes on the table and read the labels as Newman hurried out.

“I get the ‘Impossible’-label, but ‘Darwin Award’?” Sam asked the sheriff and received a grin.

“Yeah, I learnt from my grandson that if you die doing stupid shit you receive a Darwin Award. You asked for strange and some things end up in that box. You will find that Mr. Miles and Mr. Holt is in the impossible one, but the kidney-guy is in the other. I’ll let you work in peace, but keep me updated.” The old man nodded a greeting and walked out, leaving Sam to sigh as he saw that the boxes were almost full. This was going to be a lot of work.

* * *

Sam interrupted his work as his phone rung and checked the display, seeing that it said ‘D’ and answered.

“You’re on speaker,” Dean’s voice immediately began talking, “the train-guy, Miles, was a regular at the cockfights that Hunt held, so we’ve got the connection confirmed. Anyway, Hunt said that the barn got so cold he could see his breath. The doors slammed shut. The light flickered and then _turned brighter_. He saw a giant shadow-rooster behind all of the smaller ones. Their eyes glowed red and the giant rooster crowed. The smaller ones attacked and he fought them, but no matter how hard he punched or kicked they just flew off and came back. We’re currently in one of his barns, but there’s no EMF in any of them, and finding a hex bag in this dump is going to take weeks. The floor is made of dirt, so it could even be buried. What’ve you got?”

“Well, a lot,” Sam confessed as he flipped a page in the file, “the sheriff met a hunter in his past, and he gave me two boxes full of weird that he’s collected over the years. We’ll have to find a way to determine what ties to this case. We should watch over Hunt since if it’s a witch they might try again.”

“Cas could watch him,” Dean mused, “it’s not like he needs bathroom breaks. Not yet anyway.” Sam’s face scrunched together in disapproval; Castiel had feelings, and Dean was being an ass without realizing.

“Cas, would that be okay with you?” Sam wondered without calling out his brother on the unjust pique to the angel’s health.

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed and made the hunter displeased at the lack of details of his mood.

“Okay, could you watch him from across the street or something?”

“Sure.”

“What are you thinking, Sammy?” Dean injected.

“If it’s a witch they’ll probably come back to finish him off. If it’s a ghost out for vengeance, we’ll see the flickering. You two could go there and pour salt on the access points to his room so that it can’t enter-.”

“It’s a hospital, they’ll clean it up!” Dean exclaimed.

“Then place a salt line and tape it stuck to a wall, or put it above the door. Figure it out,” Sam answered back in an annoyed voice, “if it’s something tethered to an object that is there it will show up inside the salt line and if the object isn’t there it won’t show up at all. This way we can rule out a lot of things.”

“It’s a good approach,” Castiel agreed with the plan and after a second of silence Dean hung up, making Sam sigh.

Sam turned his attention to his computer and wrote in the names of people. It was too much information, too many cases, too many family members, too many friends and they would probably tie together in some way. Statistically. He was drowning in the information and he knew of only one who could help him sort through it.

* * *

Dean entered the police station after he and the falling angel had driven along the train tracks looking for EMF and had prepared the room at the hospital. The man looked around and forced a polite smile to his face as a female officer approached him.

“I’m looking for Sheriff Bates,” he informed in an official voice as he showed his badge

“Yes, of course, I saw your partner earlier,” she stated and told him to follow her.

“Sheriff Bates,” she told an older man with a whitening moustache that seemed to be very busy with rearranging pictures on a board, “this agent was looking for you.” The sheriff gave the hunter a once-over and smiled.

“Thank you, Shields,” Bates said with a nod and made the woman leave, “and you must be Agent Blair.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean stated and held up his FBI pad.

“Your partner is already here. Agent _Neal_ , was it?” Bates wondered and made Dean hesitate for a second; wasn’t Sam supposed to be Agent Lucas, maybe something was wrong with the badge and he’d changed.

“Yes, could you take me to him?” Dean smiled, seeing the man nod and point to a door almost by the end of the room.

“You can’t miss him, now excuse me; I’ve got a serial dirtbag.” Bates turned back to his board, missing how Dean smirked amused and left, but the sheriff threw a suspicious glance after the man, knowing fully well that the first FBI agent had called himself ‘Lucas’.

* * *

“Have you got anything?” Dean asked as he entered the room.

“No, but I’ve asked Charlie for help. I gave her access to the station’s Wi-Fi through my computer and she’s transferred all their data.”

“Less nerdy,” Dean demanded as he sat down and received a dirty look.

“She broke in and copied their files,” his brother translated.

“Now was that really so hard?” Dean asked with raised eyebrows and received a second glare, “it was even fewer words. Fast. Efficient. You like that.”

Sam didn’t even bother to argue with him. He just pushed the box labelled ‘Darwin Award’ to his brother and continued with his own box.

* * *

During the second day they interviewed the families of the first victims they knew of. The doctor that choked on his own tongue seemed spotless, and the fact that he wasn’t allergic to anything ruled out allergic shock. His family wasn’t happy that they were digging around, but answered questions. The sales manager that had died from hypothermia was a good family man, but a vicious supervisor and had more enemies than friends. His boss that had drowned on land was an athlete swimmer in college and twice as brutal when it came to business.

The third day they compiled lists over who it could be that killed them. The doctor had all of the families and friends of the people he’d lost in operation. The bosses had their colleagues, employees and everyone they’d ever sold anything to. The lists became endless, so they decided to work backwards and made a list of everyone that had died, been badly injured or vanished during the time the three went to the university together. The list was narrowed down by eliminating anyone’s case that had been solved or had connection to someone else. In the end they ended up with a list of five people, whereas one had lived on the route the doctor had taken to the university.

The fourth day they were performing background checks on the parents and their relatives of the unsolved ‘missing persons’-case, when the sheriff knocked on the door to their room, holding some papers in his hands.

“I don’t want to disturb,” Bates began and made sure that he closed the door behind him, “but I thought you might want to hear about the desecration of a body that happened two days ago. It was found in the forest, _salted_ and _burnt_. The identity from the dental record came back today. Lisa Moore. Just so you know.” The man threw the papers he’d been holding on their table. “I know you aren’t Feds. I called Agent Lucas ‘Neal’ without you, Blair, reacting. You’re hunters, and these are pictures of the new badge. I got them from my son-in-law yesterday. They were issued two weeks ago to all agents that were working with other organizations. It’s very ‘hush-hush’ amongst them and are going to be used to find people who impersonate federal agents. Your old ones will only get you in and out of their headquarters.” Both of the brothers stared at the man without responding and Bates winked. “I’m not dumb, you know, and someone has to deal with ghosts, so I’m helping you.”

The man walked out and Dean smashed a hand into his face with a groan; first they had to confirm the change of badges, then get new ones and then another hunter had gotten to the body before them.

“I don’t want to go home,” Dean protested and thought about all the books and files that awaited him.

“I’ll call Cas,” Sam informed his brother and pulled out his phone.

“Hi Cas, how are you holding up?” he wondered and waited for an answer, but the angel had frowned and looked down on himself. Castiel knew that the question was strange, considering that they were working a case.

“With my muscles,” he responded, knowing that that was probably not what the human wanted to know, but he didn’t know the meaning of the words other than in the literal sense.

“No, Cas, I didn’t mean-,” Sam took a breath while holding back a groan, “it means ‘how are things going? Are you well?’. It’s something you ask when someone is doing much or hard work, or is in emotional distress.” The hunter explained patiently, well-versed in teaching the celestial being figurative words and sentences.

“Oh, I’m unharmed, and nothing has happened to Mr. Hunt.”

“We were just informed that someone salted and burnt the body of a girl we think might be the cause for at least three victims, but we’ll need to stay in town and see if something weird happens, but, um, how’s the grace?”

“Fading slowly.”

“Is the work making it die more quickly, or is it the same speed?” Sam wondered, curious of everything that had to do with angels. He’d loved and cherished those creatures ever since he was little and even though it hurt that they were revolted by him he still held them high. He waited as there was silence in the phone, knowing that Castiel was probably thinking.

“Same. The loss only speeds up when I’m using it,” Castiel then answered and Sam felt awkward as he didn’t really know how to finish the conversation.

“Okay, good work and, we’ll meet back at the motel,” the hunter hung up the phone and sighed; conversations with the angel could get really uncomfortable, but he would try to answer all questions and explain everything. It was after all an Angel of the Lord, and Sam hoped that _maybe_ Castiel’s proximity could burn away the evil inside him and turn him to less of a monstrosity. He knew that his thought was foolish. He knew that he was too impure, too tainted and too evil, but he was trying, and that was better than giving up.


	3. One of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is the only one who likes the cupids greeting. He’s a softy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-04  
> Words: 4 200

Gabriel had found his next victim at a pub. It was an acquaintance of a potential target, but the target had been spared. The archangel, while surveying the man, had found that the owner’s daughter that worked there during the weekends was in love with a customer that came just for her. Gabriel had almost been tempted to eat them, that’s how sweet the air around them was. The guy that was his target kept breaking up the cute couple, making the trickster just more annoyed with him. He’d already decided that the man was going to die. A punishment fitting for the crime he’d committed a few years earlier when he kicked a child off a large boat, making him drown.

The archangel became distracted as he watched how two shy souls tried to not ruin a great friendship by involving love. She looked at him and then looked away. He looked up when she was distracted and smiled gently, turning away once she looked to him. The trickster had just been standing in the pub with his feet glued to the ceiling, invisible, and shaken his head as he watched them. They were the only reason his intended target didn’t die that very night, and not on stage at their place.

* * *

Gabriel followed them as she left her shift and was escorted home by the young man. The trickster caused one of the heels to break, making the woman fall over, but the man caught her. They lost themselves in each other’s eyes for a moment before both of them backed away. He, rubbing his arm in embarrassment, and she, pulling in her jacket for the same reason.

“Come on,” Gabriel sighed and massaged his temples; things like this had now been going on for two weekends. The two kept walking with the angel following them. They got to her apartment and stood outside for a while, just talking. Gabriel waited behind a tree, despite being invisible and thought of several ideas, but their conversation soon died and they became busy staring into each other’s eyes again and didn’t seem to notice.

Patience had never been one of Gabriel’s strong sides so he grabbed the air behind the two and gave them both a push forward. He had a strong suspicion that if he didn’t guide their lips together they would just end up face to face before jumping away from each other. With a victorious grin and a smug huff, he watched the two share a tender kiss before breaking apart. The couple stared at each other and then took part in a more fervent kiss.

“You’re welcome, both of you,” Gabriel chuckled to himself and turned visible as the woman took the man’s hand and led him inside. He only had time to wonder where his next fatality currently was before he felt the presence of grace behind him. His eyes widened; he hadn’t sensed the angel, nor had he heard any sound of wings.

“Oh, my-my, is it really _you_ , _Gabriel?_ ” a voice, almost bursting with happiness, said and Gabriel realized why he hadn’t known anything was there. Damn cupids. The archangel held a polite smile on his lips as he turned to see who it was.

“Ephra?” Gabriel asked surprised, recognizing one of the angels that he’d taught how to fly, and smiled largely, not caring that the vessel of the lower-tier celestial was naked.

“Gabriel! You remember me!” Ephra clapped his hands as his small wings flapped wildly in a different dimension and then the archangel found himself in a tight hug. Gabriel was shocked at first; he hadn’t been hugged by an angel since he became an adult, but then he relaxed and hugged back. The grace of Ephra pushed up against his own and he stopped trying to hide himself. Gabriel laughed as he used his grace to embrace the creature. It was so small compared to himself and he happily cocooned it in an environment of safety and warmth.

He was reminded by the way he’d hugged his brothers, the way they had slept in large nests and played together. The archangel opened his eyes, seeing the wings of the cupid in the other dimension and frowned. They were battered, burnt and torn. Fluffy, yet had naked patches where feathers were missing. Gabriel directed his power to heal the wings, returning them to the way they were supposed to be and imbued the feathers with his own grace so that Ephra could help another cupid heal its wings. It was easy to heal cupids’ wings as they never were too bothered by invasive actions, but if he’d done it to any other angel he would’ve found himself with a blade in his body, again. The archangel realized that the cupid had let go of him and was just waiting to be released.

“Gabriel dearest!” Ephra smiled as the trickster released him from the hug and then looked to his now healed wings; the cupid seemed almost overwhelmed. “Why did you do that?” Ephra wondered, full of awe. “How are you alive? Where have you been? Why did you do my job? How did you hide yourself like that? I didn’t even know you were an angel until you pushed them together! So many questions! But we can’t speak in the open. Come with me.”

The cupid held out his hand and the trickster hesitated before he took the hand and was brought along.

Gabriel had been moved by other angels before, he’d also been teleported by demigods, summoned and been dragged by spells, but nothing had prepared him for getting pulled along with a cupid. The archangel gasped as he found himself in a forest, just outside town. It had been like riding on a drunk bumblebee with a rocket engine instead of wings, and which wasn’t really certain where it was going and he hoped that he would never have to experience it again.

“Cherished brother, why did you heal me?” the cupid asked as the archangel took a few steps away and looked around.

“You’re my brother! Of course I’d heal you!” Gabriel answered and received a surprised look. The trickster immediately knew why Ephra was so shocked by his actions. Wardens and seraphs had been treating cupids and reapers as second class and their own personal punching balls for millennia; sometimes killing them in the process. “I might be more powerful, but it doesn’t mean that your life is less valuable. I gave you as much grace as I could without burning your wings. Use it to heal others.” The archangel smiled a bit as Ephra embraced him again and he hugged back.

“You really scared me back there. You looked like a human, but you were in the wrong dimension and you kept following them. I was certain that you were some kind of predator and was going to kill them, but then you used grace and I recognized you,” the cupid mumbled into his shirt and rubbed his face in it, “where are your wings? What’s happened to your halo? No, that’s your business, but why did you do my job?” Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t really find a reason. They had just caught his attention.

“I don’t know,” he confessed after a while and felt his body rock back and forth as the cupid snuggled him happily.

“You’re not actually an archangel, are you?” Ephra giggled and began talking in a baby-voice, “you’re just a big, fluffy cupid stuffed inside a terrifying container.”

“Are you calling me _ugly_?” Gabriel joked with a grimace, using his grace to convey his feelings of mirth so that he wouldn’t scare the cupid, and heard Ephra laugh. For a long while they just stayed in the same vicinity and spoke, but as the sun rose and a new day begun Gabriel found himself alone once again, looking for his missing target. He knew the way the soul of his target shone so all he needed to do was fly low.

* * *

It had been a week in the city and they had tied lots of victims together. It was as if something was travelling from person to person and caused damage. Most likely they were dealing with some kind of cursed object. A young man had died the day before. It was a stand-up comedian that laughed himself to death while grocery shopping and Sam thought it might be related, considering that the man who drowned had been a swimmer, the man who died of cold took regular trips to climb in the snow-covered mountains and the cockfighter had been attacked by his own roosters. Sam had reasoned that it could be an object that they had come in contact with and then lost or given away to the next person.

* * *

Gabriel was still completely oblivious to the Winchesters’ presence in town as the next night came. He had re-hidden his grace as a human soul and had locked himself in a spacious hotel room. He spread his outer pair of wings, seeing loose feathers sticking in different directions and rolled his eyes at them. He was terrible to his wings sometimes. He’d never seen any angel looking as neglected and forlorn as he mostly did, but no other angel had their wings stuffed _inside_ their body. Michael would certainly have a bitchfit if he could see him, because ‘ _Archangels are the holiest creatures and closest to their Father, and shall always be seen as such_ ’. Michael would probably have strapped him down with grace and groomed him himself to make sure that it was done properly, like when Gabriel was little.

The archangel sat down on the floor by the end of the bed and folded his arms on top of it. With only a thought, two replicas of himself showed up and started to take care of the golden wings. It could be anyone that took care of them, but he was sensitive of them and he felt awkward when he saw someone other than himself taking care of them.

Without his knowledge, trouble brewed in another part of town. The two angels that had been spending time together had been found by an angel on patrol and he’d immediately gone back to heaven for backup. A fight between the angels caused an uproar at a rave party and one of the two managed to get away.

Ophaniel felt the female vessel’s worry as he hid his grace the best he could. Well, technically _he_ was a _she_ now, since angels defined their gender after the vessel they took, and that made him female. Anna, the soul of the vessel, felt pain and sorrow from losing their mate.

Saaiz had told her to get away and she had obeyed. If it wasn’t for _that_ she would’ve stayed to fight and die, side by side. Ophaniel kept walking along a stretch of road, unsure of what to do; she needed to return to heaven, but they would kill her for disobedience, and most likely destroy _that_. She couldn’t let them destroy it, but as far as she knew, it wouldn’t survive without heaven. She was stuck and did the only thing she could think of. She clasped her hands and fell to her knees in the street, receiving a few curious stares from humans, but ignored them.

“Father, it’s one of your creations, your child Ophaniel,” the angel began her prayer and hoped that her Father would hear her, “I need Your help. I’m carrying, just like You intended, but it won’t be accepted. It was created just after the Fall, and we hid from all fractions, so we are considered traitors by all. I beg of You, save it. Even though I might not be fit for salvation in Your eyes I only ask of You to spare a life that has not yet begun. It hasn’t sinned. It hasn’t caused any pain nor death. It is pure.”

Ophaniel opened her eyes and got up from the asphalt to keep going, unaware that she was being watched as both of the angels had had numerous curious stalkers for several weeks. She headed into an alley and sighed tiredly. She went to lean on a wall and decided to rest for a bit when her legs gave out and she slid down to sit beside a dumpster; she was feeling so weak and drained, worn in a way she’d never been before. Her eyes closed and she wandered on the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, completely unaware that she in her current state needed sleep. She could suddenly sense a grace that showed up in front of her and she forced her eyes open. A pair of curious green eyes stared into hers, but she could see no hostility in them. Their faces almost touched and a hand was placed on her chest.

“We heard you,” the angel stated and she realized that it was a cupid. “I’ll try to help.” Ophaniel nodded weakly, happy for any help she could get at the moment.

“Come with me,” the cupid held out his hand and waited until the weak warden had placed her hand in it.

Ophaniel gasped and doubled over as they landed and tried to stabilize her senses. They had zipped all over the city and she felt as if she was constrained, as if she was occupying a space way too small for her.

“Michael, Lucifer and Raphael are out of the question,” the cupid stated as he got down on his knees to look into Ophaniel’s face. “Gabriel is the only one left that knows how to properly care for a warden egg.”

“He’s dead,” Ophaniel groaned and straightened herself, still feeling constricted, but ignored it.

“Then who’s that?” the cupid wondered with glee as the angel froze and stared. The archangel Gabriel was sitting on the floor with one pair of wings spread wide and groomed them using his grace.

“He’s alive?” Ophaniel stared in wonder, slightly disturbed that the archangel had neglected his wings; as of what he’d heard, Gabriel’s older brothers certainly always looked their best, “he’s not aware that we’re here.”

“No. No angel, other than cupids can see and sense us right now.” The smaller creature, currently in the form of a naked man, shimmered and they watched how Gabriel twitched around while jumping to his feet.

“Ephra! How did you find me?” the archangel wondered and forced his wings into his body, hiding them and creating the sight that he was solely human. “Right, sorry, I gave you grace,” Gabriel shrugged before the cupid had time to answer, but was then hugged tightly.

“You took care of all kinds of angel eggs long before I was even hatched,” the cupid beamed and got straight to the point as he released him from the hug.

“Yes?”

“How would you feel helping to take care of another one?” Ephra wondered and made the archangel raise his eyebrows.

“But haven’t cupids been mating for millennia?” Gabriel asked confused while thinking over what the problem could be. Cupids could hide from other angels and had their nesting territory away from heaven.

“It’s not a cupid’s egg, nor a reaper’s,” Ephra called out excitedly while clasping his hands and looked to the archangel, waiting for him to figure it out. The trickster stared in shock.

“Did some wardens or seraphs actually mate?” he doubted the truthfulness of what he was hearing, but he couldn’t help but to get a little bit hopeful; hatchlings were so adorable, and he would definitely return to heaven to watch over them. Gabriel’s face cracked open into a grin. “Are you sure it’s an egg?”

“Positive! I checked myself,” Ephra’s wings were completely fluffed up from the excitement, and their rapid beats threatened to pull the creature away and into the cupid’s dimension.

“Wow,” Gabriel smiled and sat down on the bed, remembering how much fun he had when he played with his younger brethren, “an egg, a new angel, an adorable little thing. Whose is it?”

“Ophaniel is the one carrying.”

The angel that was still out of sight tensed as her name came up, but so far the archangel seemed delighted rather than repulsed, which was what she’d thought.

“Ophaniel, yea, I remember him,” the trickster nodded and looked to the ceiling, “Michael raised him. He was so proud of him, saying that he had so much talent, but when all the other fledglings were sleeping Ophaniel snuck away to train anything and everything. He just wanted to make Michael proud. I believe in him. He will raise a good angel.” As the archangel sighed, lost in memories of his past, the cupid pulled the celestial out of hiding and Ophaniel felt all of the pressure around her vanish.

“I’m honored that you think so highly of me,” a voice came from the door and made Gabriel twitch, seeing a female with long black hair stand there.

“Shouldn’t you be nesting right now?” Gabriel asked, recognizing the grace and saw the angel move uncomfortably.

“I… didn’t know I should,” Ophaniel confessed.

“Who’s your mate?”

“Saaiz. He stayed back to fight off the collectors that came for us.”

“Oh, I see. You and Saaiz were the two that I saw earlier,” the trickster mused quietly, now knowing that the single angel he saw most likely were looking for runaways and since Saaiz was a seraph he knew that the egg could be either a warden or a seraph.

“We were hidden. How’d you see us?”

“Archangel; it comes with some benefits.”

“Angels aren’t supposed to reproduce through humans, but if I understand the biology correctly, it’s risky, but possible,” Ophaniel began on a completely new topic, worrying that her egg was going to be discovered, but maybe this was how her Father responded to her prayer. “My vessel has agreed to carry it until I can get back to it. I will return to heaven and surrender. I will say that I now understand the importance of following orders and will do whatever they require of me. I will then return for my egg, but if I don’t make it, I need someone to take care of it. Gabriel,” Ophaniel slid down to her knees, stretched out her wings along the floor in front of the archangel in a show of submissiveness and turned a begging gaze to him, “will you care for my descendant in case of my demise?”

“Get up,” Gabriel sighed as he approached without stepping on her wings and grabbed into the angel’s arm and pulled her up from the floor. “It would be a true honor for me.” The trickster smiled and then pulled the angel into a hug, feeling Ophaniel tense. Only cupids came in such close proximity to others without malicious intentions. Cupids, and apparently the archangel Gabriel.

“I will take my leave now, take good care of Anna,” Ophaniel requested as the hug ended and then withdrew from her vessel, leaving behind everything the vessel would need to create the egg and the grace that was forming the angel. Gabriel caught the woman and steadied her, seeing her look around and smile a bit carefully as her eyes landed on the naked man.

“Angels, right?” she asked and Gabriel nodded with a smile, “let’s see… You’re Gabriel and the naked one is Ephra?”

“Anna, was it?” the archangel wondered and saw her nod as he heard the cupid leave, “you were present?”

“Ah, well, kind of, everything that happened feels fuzzy. Like a dream,” Anna replied and rubbed her lower stomach, “I’ve got two daughters, but this just feels so different.” Gabriel carefully placed his hand over hers and sensed the grace that was there.

“Your body is creating the egg with the help of the mixed grace and the information Ophaniel left for it,” he revealed and pulled away his hand, “your stomach will probably grow a little bit during the coming weeks, but it won’t grow as large as if you were pregnant with a human. I don’t advice you to go to the hospital, because they will freak out if you give birth to a large egg.”

Anna laughed at the image she got in her head, but then stifled her laugh even though Gabriel kept smiling at her.

“You’re going to be the third parent of an angel. Anna, life-giver of angels. Right now heaven is in chaos, but in the future, angels will speak your name with reverence, I’ll make sure of it.”

“I-, me? Wha…” the human just stared at him and then blushed a bit as she held her stomach, “they don’t need to do anything like that. I just hope that this little angel will be raised well and happily. I hope he’ll know right from wrong, and not be afraid to stand up for what is right.”

“Then I know just the angel to raise him,” Gabriel grinned and placed a hand on her shoulder, “Castiel has never been afraid to get in anyone’s face. He always fought orders he considered wrong. At his weakest he faced Michael and Lucifer, both so much stronger than him. He faced Raphael, even when all of heaven turned against him.”

“But Ophaniel is the mother,” Anna frowned and watched the archangel nod.

“Yes, but there’s no way that they will let Ophaniel live, that’s why she didn’t leave the egg with you sooner,” Gabriel uttered in a soft whisper and shook his head, “heaven is not the same as when I grew up there.” As if he’d ordered it he heard the sound of Ophaniel’s grace blasting off. “Ophaniel was just killed.”

“How do you know?”

“All angels can hear when someone dies. I heard her grace shatter.”

“Why would they-, aren’t they angels?” Anna asked appalled and stared at the trickster before her, seeing him shrug.

“Because they’re dicks?” he stated solemnly, “angels aren’t cuddly creatures, except when small. They were nice, once upon a time. I’m older than most, but I can barely recognize them.”

“You seem nice, though,” Anna remarked as she slowly began to accept that Ophaniel, the angel that had used her body for six months was never coming back, and received a small smile.

“But I ran away when I saw that things were starting to fall apart,” Gabriel confessed and was surprised when the woman wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and held him hard, “I know exactly what it’s like to see one’s own family turn on each other, fight and kill. It’s painful. I also ran.” Gabriel smiled a bit as he returned the hug. “But I created my own happiness in a new country and have a new family that is filled with love. Isn’t it possible to create a new heaven, a better one?” She pulled away from the hug to look at him. “I realize that angels don’t die of old age, so I can’t raise an angel from an egg, but you can. You can show the angel that love is better than anger and hate. People piss each other off, so you must also teach him to forgive.”

For a short while Gabriel just looked at her with his head tilted; this was one of the things he treasured in humans. She shone beautifully, despite sorrow beginning to color her soul. They never gave up on love and he could feel her pure trust in him. They could extend their love to things other than themselves. Humans loved and cared for -not only- other humans, but also creatures in their environment. Gabriel had seen humans raise other animals with the love he’d raised his younger brothers. They planted trees and cared for them until it outlived them. Humans could be so full of love and care that it almost dazed him. It was partly the reason he punished the ones he considered bad. He didn’t want the bad ones to corrupt the good ones.

“Thank you for your faith in me,” the trickster spoke gently and then sighed; he really considered himself a creature of spite and grief, but once he’d been full of love and hope, maybe he could be that angel again? “How about I give you a ride home, and you can get back to your life while the egg forms. And when you feel that the egg is on the way you just pray to me? I’ll show up and help you through it, but you can’t pray to any other angel. They might not be so happy about it at first. Once they see an adorable baby they will change their minds.”

“How do I know you’ll hear me?” Anna wondered.

“Just say my name, ‘ _Archangel Gabriel, I pray to thee. Get thou feathery ass down here’_ ,” the trickster replied, making the human laugh, “no, but seriously. If you say my name and title, I’ll be able to hear you more clearly. There are a lot of prayers going to me, but most are in the form of ‘angel Gabriel’ and ‘Gabriel’, so if you say something more unusual I’ll be more likely to hear it.” He held out his arm and grinned. “So, my lady, where is Flight Gabriel off to?”

“Virginia, Virginia Beach.”


	4. A Case of Déjà Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean and Cas goes to church. Gabriel accepts a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-05  
> Words: 5 000

Another week passed by. A hairdresser tripped over her feet and stabbed herself in the eye with a pair of scissors. A fire-fighter spontaneously combusted while out for a run. A fisherman just outside of town got tangled in the net and was cut open by the boat’s propeller. An environmental activist was struck by lightning on a clear day. A librarian was killed when a large bookshelf fell on her. A priest choked on a cracker. A mailman was eaten by a pack of wild dogs. A teacher swallowed a chalk and suffocated. An elevator technician fell down an elevator shaft.

The two hunters were overwhelmed by what was going on in the city, unable to distinguish what could be caused by the cursed object and what was just accidents. They had been sitting in the motel room for a day, discussing which case could be related. Or rather, Castiel and Sam were discussing while Dean grumbled to himself and drank beer, persistent that they didn’t need to go over it all another time. Three times was enough and nothing new came up after the second time.

“I _hate_ big cities!” Dean declared and took a sip from the flask, glaring at the map on the wall across from him; it was full of dots and around it lines connected pictures of people and showed how they were linked.

“At least we’ve got a case,” Sam commented from his place beside the window.

“Yeah, but it’s barely better than sitting in the bunker all day,” his older brother agreed and as he finished his sentence Sam’s phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Samwise! I found a connection between a lot of people! It’s hilarious!” Charlie called out into the phone, “or-, well-, it would be hilarious if people weren’t dying, but it’s still pretty funny.”

“I’m putting you on speaker,” he replied and clicked a button before placing the phone on the table.

“Sup, ma bitches! Have you heard a song called ‘ _Dumb Ways to Die_ ’? Because people are dying like in the song, well, not all of them are dying, but a lot of them. Of the twenty-one in the song, eight have died while thirteen have survived with injuries. Every second day one accident happened. I’m sending you a file with the song and each victim that corresponds with it.” Sam received the file and opened it. They were only through the first verse when he began to worry what they were up against.

“This is a safety advert for trains!” Sam groaned once the song came to an end and dug his hands into his hair, remembering a creature that used a magazine with urban legends to kill people.

“Either we have a bored witch or it’s another freaking trickster!” Dean called out in frustration.

“My guess goes to the trickster,” Charlie’s voice came from the phone.

“So now we know what it is and how to kill it. How the heck do we find it?” Dean mused aloud.

“My recommendation is to find out why those people were targeted. Find out how he-she chooses his-her victims,” Charlie suggested in a quick pace, “at least that’s what they do on CSI.”

“We’ll begin interviewing the other victims first thing tomorrow,” Sam determined on his own, “thank you Charlie, that was great work.” 

“And don’t you forget it! Bye, and good luck!”

“We should start with the most recent,” Sam began, opening a report that the hacker had sent over on his computer, “Jones was stung by bees inside his house. According to the insurance claim they showed up out of nowhere, but the ambulance staff found a smashed nest on the table of his living room.”

“What if we split up to do the interviewing?” Dean suggested, hoping that he was going to get to kill something faster. He knew it was caused by the mark, but as long as he didn’t mention it, his brother didn’t have to worry.

“Sure,” Sam agreed and pulled up the next person, “Moore ran out on a road dressed in a moose costume, no, wait, he died later at the hospital.” The hunter pulled up the next file and checked that the victim was alive before continuing. “Garcia claims that she found a big red button in her and her roommate’s apartment. It said ‘press for surprise’ and her roommate was kind of a joker, so she did. The investigation that followed showed that it was a gas leak that caused the explosion and the button wasn’t found.”

“Cas and I will head over to Garcia and question her. You can talk to Bee-guy,” Dean declared, “I’ll let Cas try to do the interviewing and comfort Miss. Button if he scares her.”

* * *

With an excited yell Sam had woken his brother one morning three days later. Dean had pulled out a handgun from underneath the pillow and held it out before him while staring wildly around their room.

“I did it! I found it!” the younger hunter explained loudly while his brother dropped the gun to the bed and got up. “The guy that shoved a fork in the toaster had during high school pushed out some guy from the second floor, and the victim attends the same church as the man who’s suspected of hitting his kid. I looked into the people attending the church and found that Walker was bullied by the third victim Adams. A kid, barely a teenager, committed suicide a few years back, claiming to have been raped, and his description of the culprit matches that of Hall. You know, the guy whose head blew up when he got stuck in the vacuum-part of the freeze-dryer machine.” Sam looked to his brother, only to see that he’d locked himself in the bathroom.

“Good work,” Castiel said with a nod, “the trickster could be dragging out confessions from people and retaliating on their behalf. He might even be pretending to be a priest or might be working together with the priest.”

“Now all we need to get are some stakes soaked in one of the victims’ blood,” Sam mumbled and got up, “tell Dean I went to get us the right weapons.” Castiel nodded and watched the younger Winchester walk out the door while Dean showered and got ready.

* * *

They soaked the stakes and then placed them in plastic bags so that the blood wouldn’t smear everywhere. The weapons were hidden inside their inner pockets as they got out of the impala a block away, deciding that it would be easier to infiltrate the church if they split up. Sam walked away and saw that the sermon was over when he got to the steps. Most people headed for a larger building behind the church and Sam headed inside.

* * *

“Oh, Father, I need guidance, and my own Father is unreachable,” Gabriel sighed wearily when the man approached after the sermon was finished and looked to the priest that then took a knee in front of him, sensing his weight, “how do I even begin to explain?”

“You’ve been coming here for some time, Nawid. Just tell me what comes to mind,” the human said calmingly and Gabriel nodded, almost rolling his eyes at the fact that he went to a human to talk about celestial problems.

“There is a child on the way. This child is going to be born through a surrogate mother, but the parents are dead. They died recently, and I promised to care for it. To raise it, like I helped raise my brothers when I was young. I was excited at first, but then I remembered that I’m not who I used to be. I had so much love and hope back then. Before Dad vanished. Before my family collapsed in on itself.” Gabriel sighed again and dug his hands into his hair. “There is nothing left, nothing but anger and sorrow. Betrayal. Hopelessness. I can’t raise a child like this. I’m a monster and it needs something better. I considered that my brothers could raise it, but they would either kill it or raise it as a slave…” A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder and Gabriel looked up to the softly smiling priest.

“And that’s not the truth,” the human stated, making the archangel confused, “you say that you are a monster, yet you are here, seeking forgiveness, improvement, and change. That’s not the actions of a monster. That’s the actions of a parent that realizes what a responsibility a new life will be. There will be hardship, but there will also be love and happiness. I think that you will find that once you take the child in your arms you will feel hope. The world can be a dark place, but that’s no reason to give up. There are so much light and joy out there, you just have to choose to see it. And besides,” the priest stood up and helped Gabriel up from the bench, “only good parents worry that they won’t be good parents. You will be fine, and there are lots of willing people and organizations that can help. I can help. We can help. You are not alone in this.”

“Thank you, Father,” Gabriel stated and placed his cap on his head, feeling that there was someone in the church with them, “go and help the lost soul.”

“Think about what I said,” the priest requested as they shook hands, “you are not a monster. Try and see that, and remember that you are always welcome here.”

“I’ll try,” the archangel promised and saw the man leave. He pulled the hoodie over his head and with his gaze to the ground he walked out.

* * *

Sam looked around the empty benches and saw how the dark-haired priest was standing on a knee before a man that was sitting hunched over on the first row. Sam could see how the man buried his hands in his dark-blonde hair and shook his head when the priest said something to him. The man seemed to be in distress as he looked up to the man on one knee, shrugging before nodding at what the dark-haired man said. The blond was helped up from the bench and Sam got the impression that he recognized him as he pulled a cap over his hair, even from behind. The men shook hands and the priest came walking towards Sam while the blond pulled a hood over his head.

“Welcome to the Church of Holy Amends, child,” the priest smiled up at Sam, “I am Father Peter Fields, what can I do for you?”

“I’m seeking God, and forgiveness,” the hunter answered in a low voice, seeing how the person the priest had been speaking to walked past. The cap hid his face and his hunched gait made it hard to determine his stature, but he was short.

“Then you’ve come to the right place, my son,” Father Fields said with a smile, “the congregation is currently in the assembly house having refreshments. It’s a perfect opportunity to get to know some of the people. Or are you more interested in making a confession?”

“I’d love to get to know some people,” Sam smiled and decided to leave the interview of the priest to his brother.

* * *

Sam headed into the building and followed the sound of people and plates. He got to a large room with long tables and searched for a person with a sweet-tooth, but as everyone were drinking coffee or tea and eating pieces of cake he guessed that it was going to be harder than that. He poured himself some coffee and approached a smaller group of men and women. He politely asked if he could join them by the table and started to make friends, knowing that they might have to go to sermons several times in order to find the trickster, but Sam immediately began narrowing things down. He questioned who there were new and reoccurring, receiving multiple names, but only a few of those names were inside the assembly house. When a woman got up to get another piece of cake he managed to decline her offer of a piece, and slip into the conversation that he was trying to get out of his sugar-addiction, asking if anyone knew of the struggle with sugar.

The three hunters were at the evening sermon the next day. All of them spread out along the bench in the back, allowing them to see if anyone was eating candy. Then they had driven around town, ending up at a bar as they waited for the evening to turn night. Dean had decided that they were going to break in as the only other trickster they’d dealt with hung around the place. After sweeping the church and surrounding buildings three times they gave up and returned to the motel near the sunrise.

* * *

Gabriel was content where he lay naked in the grass beside a lake, just outside the city. He listened to the soft breathing of the female figure beside him and smiled as he turned to face her. They had met up now on a couple of occasions. The simurgh was naked but covered by the yellow fur with slightly darker patches. She had a short, but beautiful peacock’s tail in fiery colors that mirrored the copper in her wings. Her feet ended in delicate paws that hid terrifyingly sharp claws.

They had been diving in the lake this time and played around in it the evening before. Gabriel had used his celestial powers to create a pair of fake wings of his own that he used to swim with underwater. They had chased each other and he never let her get too far away from him. In the end, she had stated that he was worthy and allowed him to see her use her powers to purify the lake. He followed her as her speed increased in the water and he watched as her wings, tail and eyes began to glow in warm reddish colors. The light seeped from her limbs and dissolved in the murky water, turning it purer. Gabriel swam beside her and watched how the environment changed. He could in the end see all the creatures in the water and not just sense them. Azar went to the bottom and then shot up, out of the now crystal clear lake and Gabriel followed her, flying to the lake’s edge and landed.

“I’m impressed, Loki,” Azar had confessed and caressed his chest with a teasing smile, “usually only other simurghs can keep up with me.” Gabriel had kissed her, feeling her smile against his lips.

“Well, I’m the God of Mischief. I’ve got a few cards up my sleeve,” the angel had murmured and kissed her again, lifting her into his arms and carried her to where no one would see them. He hadn’t told her that he’d asked other simurghs to show him how they purified lakes, but if they didn’t say no they always challenged him for a swim. He’d swam many times with simurghs, trying hard to not let them get away from him, but they had always done so as he didn’t want to cheat. They were so much faster in the water than he was and the waters had been too extensive. He tried to get them into smaller lakes where they wouldn’t be as fast, but it wasn’t until now that he’d managed to convince one of them into a small lake. However, somewhere inside he knew that he’d been the one trapped and this simurgh had just been happily playing with him.

The archangel carefully stroke a brown hair out of the woman’s face, admiring the bronzed skin and tranquil expression. He waited beside her and guarded her from harm. He waited for when her sleep would end and she would wake up. Gabriel was an archangel and a god; he did not need sleep. He could pretend, but what was the point? He’d actually only slept on a few occasions, as in _truly_ slept. He’d been unconscious and he’d had dreams. It was a strange thing to experience after so many millennia without it, but from time to time, whenever he saw a small smile on another creature’s face while they slept he would wish that he could do it whenever he wanted.

“Loki?” Azar mumbled as she woke up and Gabriel smiled at her.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said and sat up, caressing her muzzled brown hair and heard her hum restfully at the action. Her clear brown eyes studied his every move, but as he produced a comb and kept carding though her hair her eyes closed. For a while he tended to her hair and then moved along to her wings. Small approving noises was heard as he began preening the feathers on the folded wings; it had become like a ritual to them. The simurgh turned so that she was lying on her stomach. She grinned and used her wing to push the god to the ground before unfolding it over him, allowing Gabriel to continue his ministrations. The lose feathers vanished into his hands as he removed them, and when he was done he produced a ceramic cup of holy oil beside them, but he didn’t have time to reach the wing before it was pulled away with force.

“What’s that?” Azar demanded to know, cautious of what a _trickster_ could put in her feathers, but before she allowed him to answer she sniffed the ceramic cup; she had a hard time trusting anyone, and a trickster could be very dangerous.

“Holy oil, my beautiful feline,” Gabriel smiled and she looked back to him, having determined that it really was some kind of oil. The giant appendage returned above him and the archangel continued his work, massaging in the oil near the base of the quills, and drew it across the feathers. As he used his hands he quietly wondered if Ophaniel and Saaiz had preened each other’s wings. The thought made him blush and he felt a bit jealous.

He’d had his wings groomed by others, but that was before he became sexually mature, before his wings changed and turned more sensitive and could be used as weapons. Mating with another angel was something that sometimes came on his mind, but it was also one of the things that scared him the most. He had no idea of _how_ it worked, or _how_ two angels created an egg, but he guessed that his Father had made some sort of knowledge reaction when it came to it, like how turtle-babies knew the direction of the water or larva knew how to create a cocoon. He doubted that the two angels had made an egg by accident, and known about it. Besides, even though he wanted to mate, it didn’t mean that he didn’t have standards. The angel that was his mate could not see it as their duty to follow his wishes, and could not do it simply because he was their superior and wanted to advance in the hierarchy. Maybe he’d just been in a vessel for so long that human wishes had made itself a headquarter in his head?

“You seem distracted,” Azar commented as he finished the first wing.

“I’m just thinking of when I was a revered god,” Gabriel lied and planted a kiss on the lips of the simurgh.

“Thinking of how low you’ve fallen? Grooming the wings of lesser beings?” she wondered smugly, but the trickster could see a bit of sadness in her eyes even though it was well-concealed.

“No, I was thinking that, even though I was a god, I still couldn’t get someone, as magnificent as you,” the archangel lied between kisses. Azar let out a small huff as he got up to lay down on the other side of her to take care of the other wing.

“Dorough,” the simurgh grinned amused to herself, unaware that he knew that she said ‘lies’, but as she smiled and continued he ignored it, “you’re doing great work. I like the thought of having a god at my feet to do my bidding.”

“You just wait a moment and I’ll be _all over_ your body,” Gabriel winked with an amused smile and continued his work.

“Good, I thought that I might have drained you,” Azar chuckled and spread her peacock tail as she stretched her back and then her legs.

“Oh, if you’re not careful I’ll ruffle those long beautiful feathers until tomorrow,” Gabriel threatened, but only received a challenging grin.

“Oh, yeah? Is that a promise you’ll be able to hold, Loki? Or do you just like to talk big?”

“Oh, I’ll show you,” the archangel grinned widely, working more hurriedly, “I’ll make you eat your words, and when we’re finished you’ll announce me as your one true god.”

“Hoho! Like that would happen!” the woman tried to continue her serious face, but she was almost laughing at their exchange. “I’d love to see you try, but when _I’m_ done with _you_ , you will admit that the mighty god Loki was no match for a mystical creature like me.”

“Oh, challenge accepted,” Gabriel grinned and finished his hurried preening before he pounced the woman, hearing her laugh as he did.

* * *

They spent their days finding more and more connections to the church, so it clearly was the epicenter for the trickster. The only problem they faced was the fact that no one in the congregation seemed excessively fond of sweets or was showing any strange behavior. Dean’s mood was becoming much fouler while Sam became grouchy and quiet. Their arguing was getting so out of hand that Dean spent some nights sleeping in the car, just to get away from his brother. Castiel, however, remained just the same, even though his eyes became glazed over during church visits. Sam was almost jealous of the angel; he too would love to be able to speak with someone else during the worshiping.

After the church and the ceremonial Sunday cake they got to the car a block away and Dean shoved a hand in his jacket, but then patted his pockets with a panicked expression. The stream of curses that followed only made Sam more irritated.

“You _lost_ the key?” the young Winchester snapped, knowing that they could pick the lock and get a new key.

“Shut up!” Dean bellowed and in ire kicked a tree that was planted by their parking spot. Sam just watched as his older brother fell down with a hiss, holding his ankle and rolled his eyes.

“I’m going back to the church to look,” Sam informed and turned to the angel, “make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” He then spun around and walked back, relaxing as he went. Everything was a little bit better once he could get out of his brother’s presence. The life in the bunker was usually consisting of Sam sitting in the library and seeing his brother once in a while when he went into the kitchen. In the bunker they had separate rooms, but now they had spent several weeks inside a one-room motel room, and it was driving them both crazy.

The priest, Father Fields, was placing back psalm books in a large bookcase when Sam got inside.

“Father, sorry to disturb,” the hunter smiled a bit awkwardly, “but has anyone turned in a car key? I seem to have lost one. It’s old and black in the end.”

“Actually, they have,” the priest smiled back and asked him to follow. As they got further in, Sam could see the benches, and on one of the benches sat a lonely blond man, munching on a chocolate bar. He seemed to have chosen that particular spot because sunlight seeped in through a large, roof window and kept him warm.

“Father,” Sam said quietly, stopping his walk and made the man echo his move, “who’s that?” The hunter nodded to who he could only assume was the trickster.

“Nawid Diangelo,” Father Fields replied with a smile, “he comes here after the sermons to pray.”

“Oh, okay,” Sam smiled politely and realized why they had never found the trickster before. The priest passed along the back row of the benches and entered a small room.

“Here’s the key,” the dark-haired man handed over the item and Sam gratefully accepted it.

“Thank you,” the hunter whispered and threw a glance back to the most-likely-a-trickster. He had semi-long dark-blond hair, combed backwards. With a small smile and a nod Sam left the priest and walked along the rows of benches. He recognized the man before he’d even gotten around to see his face; Gabriel, it was the freaking archangel, _again._ Sam looked over his shoulder as he got to the row, seeing that the priest had entered the cloakroom and took a quick picture of the celestial before he sent it to Dean. The janitor-trickster-god-archangel was just sitting on the padded bench with his face turned up towards the sun and window. Gabriel seemed almost blissful where he sat with his eyes closed and his hands in his lap. He only moved to take another bite of his chocolate.

“I know you’re there,” the trickster suddenly said in a quiet voice without opening his eyes, causing the hunter to sigh before making his way to sit down beside him.

“Cas said you were alive,” Sam stated and saw golden brown eyes snap open to stare at him. The angel seemed shocked to see him there, but the surprise over the fact that it wasn’t the priest was gone a second later and was replaced with a smirk. “We didn’t know if it was Metatron or you who showed up.”

“Oh, Samsquatch, it’s good to see that you are well!” the trickster beamed and took another bite from his snack. Sam’s gaze was unconsciously drawn to the piece before flicking back up to the trickster’s eyes. A new chocolate bar was held out to him and he cautiously accepted the peace offering.

“It’s good to see that you are alive, Nawid Diangelo,” Sam confessed truthfully and opened the chocolate. The sentence had stopped the angel’s chewing and the hunter received a curious stare.

“You really think that,” Gabriel responded surprised after detecting no deception and took another bite, “even after what I did to you?”

“Well,” Sam sneered a half-smile and took a bite. He was both amused and in anguish by the memories. He shook his head, “it took me a while, but I understand what you were trying to do. I didn’t like it and never will. But in the end. You saved my life, and my brother. That counts for something in my book. How are you alive?” For a moment the archangel just kept sucking on a piece of chocolate in his mouth.

“I didn’t survive,” Gabriel then confessed with seriousness that surprised Sam, “I died and was then revived. I was blasted off to the other side of the planet. I took it as a hint that dear ol’ Daddy dearest didn’t want me to get involved so I stayed away.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Back to my old life,” Gabriel winked.

“No, I mean in the church. There’s no one here,” Sam clarified.

“Oh, I was praying.”

“Really? You?”

“What? I pray.”  

“You didn’t look like you were,” Sam commented and saw how the archangel childishly stuck out his tongue. The hunter grinned and shook his head, knowing that he didn’t have the ability to kill the creature beside him, at least not with a weapon that an angel would consider to be nothing more than a blood-soaked toothpick. For a while they just sat beside each other. Sam finished his treat and placed the wrapper in one of his pockets.

“Thank you for the chocolate.”

“No problem, Gigantor. And if you’re craving for something sweet; I’ve always got something in my pants,” Gabriel flirted with delight and Sam gave him an unimpressed look before shaking his head, amused by the archangel’s not-so-angelic behavior.

* * *

“Fantastic,” Dean growled when he and Castiel walked up to the bench, “it really was the last of the arch-dicks.”

“You mud-monkeys are always so sharp,” Gabriel grinned amused, “how long did you have to look in order to find me? An _entire_ week?” Dean’s expression turned even more sour, knowing that it had taken them a little over a month, but that was something he wasn’t about to tell the trickster.

“I know that the stake won’t kill him, but can I still stab him?” Dean wondered, turning his question to Sam, whose large frame blocked any attempt to get to the smaller person.

“Actually it will probably kill him,” Castiel remarked and stared at his celestial brethren through narrowed eyes. Dean turned to the angel, watching him as if he was crazy. “I can’t see any grace in him. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve seen his vessel I wouldn’t be able to tell that he was a celestial being.”

“Awesome,” Dean grinned, thinking that he was finally getting to kill something.

“But if he hasn’t got any powers, who’s the trickster?” Sam questioned and turned to the archangel, seeing him shrug indifferently and pull a new chocolate bar from his jacket, demonstrating that he wasn’t conjuring them up.

“Shit, a second one?” Dean swore and then glared at the short man, “you’re coming with us, asshole.”

“Three against one? I guess I don’t have any other choice,” Gabriel grinned amused and opened his new chocolate bar.

Gabriel had nothing better to do, so hanging out with Castiel’s pets seemed perfectly reasonable for a few hours or a day; it would be even more fun when they figured out that he was tricking them. He wasn’t human, but it would be interesting to see if they would try to kill him or not. Not that it would work, but if they tried there would be revenge. No lessons, just pure revenge, lots of Japanese gameshows and lots of entertainment for him.


	5. Tricks and Treats, Tricksters Cheat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean doesn’t get it, Sam feels bad and Gabriel watches TV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-06  
> Words: 4 600

Gabriel followed them without a word. No fussing as he got in the car and no complaint as he walked into their motel room. Neither Sam nor Castiel cared about the fact that he was quiet, but it thoroughly unnerved Dean. The elder Winchester was expecting the trickster to attack them any moment to flee, but he just kept quiet and winked whenever he caught anyone looking at him.

The archangel let his gaze wander around the room before he threw himself on the bed with wrinkled sheets. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the unmade beds were the Winchesters, which left the wrinkled one belonging to his fellow celestial. Gabriel wiggled on it and then threw his hands behind his head.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Dean demanded to know in an aggravated voice and stared at the trickster while holding hard into his stake.

“What? I’m caught,” Gabriel leered, way too amused by the situation and Sam guessed that he was doing everything he could to annoy Dean. “You have cuffs, all hunters have cuffs, maybe you could get them,” the trickster wiggled his eyebrows and made the older Winchester take a step back, “maybe you could open my shirt, maybe you could pull down my pants. I think I need to be punished. Whip me, Hunter. I’ve been a _bad boy_.”

“Shut up!” Dean called out and swore before he vanished out the door with a mutter of, “fucking angels...”

Sam sat down by the table and watched his brother go to the car, as the black impala backed out from its parking he wasn’t able to hold back a small chuckle. Castiel was quiet and only seemed interested in observing his apparently now-human brother.

“Well done, Gabriel!” Sam commended and turned to the short man on the bed.

“Thank you,” the archangel seemed pleased and closed his eyes.

“But I hope you realize that of Dean and I, Dean is the one to most likely stab you.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Gabriel opened his eyes and gave Sam a confident look, “besides, you’re here to save me.”

“Do you know who’s been killing people?” the young hunter asked, knowing what the answer most likely would be.

“Yup,” Gabriel grinned and sat up on the bed while pulling out one of his lollipops from his pants’ pockets. Sam decided to ignore him, refusing to ask the question ‘who?’ as he knew that that was _exactly_ what the trickster wanted.

“You wanna know who?” Gabriel asked after a while and Sam shrugged while making sure to keep his eyes on the screen of his laptop.

“Not really… Keep your secret,” he answered indifferently while typing nonsense on the computer, knowing that it would bother the pagan god. “My guess is that it’s actually a friend of yours, so you won’t sell them out, but you probably know why those specific people were chosen. Would you mind telling me?”

“You’re always so polite,” the archangel commented while sucking on his piece of candy and sent a glance to the other angel in the room, seeing Castiel stare at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure something out.

“Well, yea, I have to set a good example for other abominations,” Sam answered apathetically, but felt a sting in his heart at saying that word aloud.

“You are not an abomination, Sam,” Castiel stated seriously without breaking eye-contact with his brother.

“Thanks Cas, but I know you’re just trying to be nice. I’ve seen how angels look at me,” the hunter stated, seemingly not caring and finally pulled up a list of the people who died strange deaths. “Okay, Gabriel, why did Mary Hill deserve to die?”

“How’d she die?”

“She was inspecting a forest clearing, when she was impaled by a falling branch.”

“Nuh-uh, she was not on the list,” Gabriel stated as he shook his head.

“Okay… What about Betty Green? She worked in administration and was changing ink in a photocopier when ‘she was eaten by it’, according to her co-workers.”

“Yes, a few years ago she stood by the pool and watched one of her now-ex-husband’s children drown in the water without helping him. She left him there so that the older daughter would find him and blamed her for not watching over her brother. The daughter’s _ten_ now and locked away in a psychiatric hospital for severe depression and several suicide attempts. I repeat, _ten_ _years old_ , so someone told her what had happened, healed her mind and fuzzed out her memories. That Betty-bitch was evil.” For a long while, Sam just stared at the archangel; he agreed that the victim was a horrible person, but was killing her really the answer?

“Mark Perez, was a botanist that ate poisonous flowers.”

“Nuh-uh,” Gabriel said with the candy in his mouth and shook his head, and so it continued as Sam fed him names, deaths and what it was that had drawn the hunters’ attention to it. What Sam discovered was that most of the trickster’s victims had caused pain, suffering or death to children. Clearly that wasn’t by accident and someone most likely had a soft spot for kids, whether they realized it or not.

“Robert Collins, mailman, torn to pieces by wild dogs.”

“Professional a-hole. Abducted five people and gutted them in the forest outside town ten years ago.”

They were almost at the end of the list of people when the roar of the impala was heard and Sam ignored it to continue to ask the trickster questions.

“George Carter, survived, but had his hair put on fire inside his car.”

“Yea, he made fun of a burn victim by threatening to put her on fire. He had a burning log and she was caught in a corner. The others in his group laughed, they were in a crash, broke a few bones and got minor burns, nothing too serious. He was a dick though, but didn’t deserve death. Someone thought it was fitting to make him a burn victim too,” Gabriel finished his explanation, wondering why he was telling the hunter all of this, but maybe it was because Sam looked at him, nodded as he explained and didn’t seem to judge him. He just looked curious and accepting. No wonder he was so good at questioning people, or maybe the hunter agreed with his actions? Even if just a teeny-weeny bit…

Dean entered the motel room with two cases of beer, ignoring everyone in it as he walked over to the fridge.

“That took you long enough,” Gabriel grinned, hoping to annoy the hunter more, “you better have some awesome handcuffs with you!”

“Dick,” Dean muttered as he placed the new beer on the shelf in the cold and then turned around and pointed to the archangel, “now, you’re Cas’ brother, and I don’t want to gank you in front of him! But if you keep talking I will _gag_ you.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Gabriel cooed and wiggled his eyebrows, making Dean growl annoyed before taking out a beer.

“You know that it would be so much easier to ignore him?” Sam asked as his brother sat down on the chair next to him.

“Shut up,” Dean muttered and took a swig of the alcohol, throwing a glace to the opened computer, “what are you doing?”

“I’ve been checking which people actually were victims,” Sam explained, turning the laptop to allow his brother to see, “the names in bold are victims.”

“On the list, only those?” Dean asked disturbed and shook his head, “man, that sheriff was right. Some people die idiotic ways.”

“Apparently,” Sam agreed and sent a glance to the angels that were busy with what appeared to be a staring contest.

“What the hell do we do with him?” Dean asked and jutted his thumb to the archangel.

“Chain him in the bunker and keep him as a pet?” Sam joked and saw the trickster place a hand over his chest and show an overly hurt expression.

“Only if whips are involved,” Gabriel then demanded with a giant grin as the joke made it into his head.

“Shut your mouth!” Dean yelled and pointed an accusing finger at him, making the trickster squirm happily and giggle. Sam just rolled his eyes at his brother’s stubbornness; if he simply paid no attention to Gabriel, the trickster would grow bored and stop.

“No, but you could just let me go, I mean, it’s not like I can cause trouble anymore,” the archangel shrugged as the two hunters looked at him in exhaustion, knowing that he didn’t need powers to cause tragedy and suffering. He was a walking catastrophe waiting to happen.

“Tell us the name of the monster that’s killing people, and maybe we’ll consider letting you go,” Dean bargained.

“Nah,” the trickster shrugged and licked playfully on the red lollipop while keeping intense eye-contact with the older Winchester and wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Dean growled and tried to get up, but he was stopped half-way by his brother grabbing into his plaid shirt. The hunters stared at each other, seemingly communicating without words before the elder Winchester sat down again with a scowl.

“Gabriel, we’re going to let you go,” Sam smiled at the archangel and closed the laptop. The trickster raised an eyebrow in surprise; it was not what he had expected, but the reason became clear to him a moment later.

“My friend won’t show up, you know? Has probably already skipped town,” the short man lied and drew a hand through his hair. “but you can try to trail me if you want. I have something important to do so you will lose me.”

“You are not permitted to leave,” Castiel suddenly stated, still with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, baby-bro, your pets are the ones in charge,” Gabriel stated with a small smirk and a tilt of his head.

“He is not going,” the angel turned to the humans, seeing Sam shrug and Dean stare at him.

“Sure, if you want him to stay, he stays,” the elder replied with a nod as he could see that Castiel was serious, “mind telling us why?”

“There’s something wrong with him,” the angel commented with narrowed eyes and got up from the chair he was sitting on. He approached the archangel as if he was afraid that he was going to bite, “he looks human, but he doesn’t… _feel_ human.” Castiel held out the palm of his hand as if sensing for something. “I didn’t realize until we were sitting in the car beside each other, but he radiates with power. I can’t see it, but it’s still there.”

“How do you mean?” Sam wondered curiously and stared at the archangel that was smirking expectantly, getting an image of grace as a campfire in his mind as Castiel held out both hands.

“I can see halos, wings of angels and grace inside occupied vessels, and I can feel souls if I enter the body. As a seraph I can also see hints of souls inside humans. Gabriel looks like a normal human, but he feels like he has grace,” Castiel explained and Gabriel gave him a slow clap.

“Astounding deduction, Lieutenant Watsoniel, but you are completely off target,” the archangel grinned and played with the candy in his mouth.

“Great, just perfect,” Sam groaned irritated, realizing that they had been fooled again, and got up from the table to go closer and glare at the trickster. “There is no _friend_ , is there? There’s just _you_ , chock-full of power, pretending to be human for some _ridiculous_ reason like annoying us.”

“You really are the brains of the operation, kiddo,” Gabriel grinned and surrendered the joke.

“Then it really was _you_ who slaughtered all those _people_?” the younger Winchester inquired accusingly.

“They were not people. They were monsters!” Gabriel argued, feeling strangely upset, maybe it was because he’d thought that the hunter had understood his actions.

“No, they were _people_!” the human’s voice rose in volume.

“And who elected you to be the _almighty_ monster-decider?!” the archangel taunted, also becoming louder, while Castiel took several steps back as a wave of power warned him of an archangel in a foul mood and Dean looked on in surprise as Gabriel got up from the bed to face the younger hunter, “you have no right to judge! You kill people all the time!”

“I kill monsters! Not people!”

“You kill anything that isn’t human! Calling it a monster!”

“I do _not_! You can’t just kill someone because you don’t like them!”

“You do that all the time! Just because it’s human doesn’t mean it isn’t a monster!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“If it was a werewolf that gutted five people you wouldn’t hesitate to kill him! But the moment it’s a human you say that it’s _wrong_!” Gabriel quarreled at the top of his lungs, unaware of how the clear, sunny sky had become ominously dark and poked the large man in the chest, seeing him open his mouth to respond, but the archangel wouldn’t let him. “I don’t care what race the creature belongs to! A monster’s a monster! Everybody’s people! Humans and non-humans alike! Get your fucking _priorities_ straight! Is the next victim’s life worth _less_ just because you’re dealing with a nasty fucking human?!”

As quickly as the fight had broken out it ended. Both archangel and human stared at each other while huffing slightly. No one broke the silence, nor dared to move. Castiel stood with a tilted head and Dean just stared wide-eyed at the scene with the bottle halfway to his mouth. Gabriel could almost see Sam’s thoughts spin and he saw the hunter open his mouth several times, but no new argument was formed. The younger hunter huffed in an angry breath and passed the trickster in frustration. Sam dug his hands into his hair and turned around, having calmed down a degree.

“You’re right,” Sam acknowledged in an angry growl and made all of Gabriel’s anger roll off to be replaced with surprise, “we’ve been telling ourselves that we save people, but if it’s a human we just try to leave clues to the police.” The large man seemed to deflate a bit. “I guess that we take racism to a whole new level. We’re just as bad as the monsters.”

“Hey!” Dean entered the dwindling argument, “humans already have other humans hunting them! Animals gets blamed when monsters kill!”

“Yea,” Sam stated and made a weak gesture to the archangel, “but he only killed people that had gotten away with murder. If we call _our_ case just, then Gabriel’s by definition is also just.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Dean wondered upset.

“If we ignore race and just assume that everyone is an individual we turn into monsters ourselves,” Sam tried to explain with a sad expression and made the archangel approach.

“No, you’re _not_ a monster, kiddo,” Gabriel declared as he grabbed into the man’s arms and gave him a firm expression, “monsters are people who kill others, who takes innocent lives. Sometimes just for simple pleasure. You don’t take innocent life! You are not a monster and neither-,” the trickster’s voice suddenly dropped in volume once he realized what words were about to come out, “and neither am I…” The archangel stared into the hunter’s eyes, shocked over his own words and wondered when he had gone from monster to not-monster in his own mind. The words ‘neither am I’ kept repeating in his head as he walked over to the bed and sat down, feeling confused over his own words.

“What the hell just happened?” Dean asked in disbelief, staring from his seemingly solemn brother to the equally serious trickster; he’d clearly missed something important and it had something to do with the trickster. Ever since they first met Gabriel, the angel had only turned to Sam to speak, and it was as if his brother could understand him better. Dean wanted straight conversation with no hidden meanings and he had always had a hard time looking underneath the surface. His brother, however, seemed to be able to dive deep into conversations’ several layers, and that seemed to be how the trickster spoke. In layers so deep Dean couldn’t keep up; he didn’t understand what had happened the last minute and a half and he was blaming layers. The hunter sent a glance to his best friend seeing that the angel turned to look at him.

“I believe feelings are involved,” Castiel suggested and made the hunter sigh at the obvious analysis, unaware that the angel was implying something deeper than just anger and frustration.

“Yea, Cas, shouting tends to mean that,” Dean muttered and gulped down the last of his beer, deciding to deal with it the way he usually dealt with situations like this; he ignored them. He picked out two new beers from the fridge, opening them before going over and handing one to his brother. He took a seat on his bed and turned on the TV, deciding to watch some kind of cop-drama that was half-way finished.

Sam soon took a chair from the kitchen-part of the room and dragged it to Dean’s bed so that he too could watch. Gabriel sent a glance to the door, seeing the younger celestial guard it so he chose to just lay down on the bed with his legs hanging over the edge. Calm was restored inside the room despite the heavy atmosphere. Fifteen minutes later, as the show ended, Sam turned to the archangel.

“So, um, Gabriel,” he began, seeing that the short man didn’t move or make any acknowledgement that he was listening, “why are you hiding from the angels?”

“Always has,” the trickster answered with a voice strangely deprived of joy as he slowly lapped at the sticky sweetness of a new lollipop.

“Oh,” Sam felt awkward and returned to look at the commercials as Dean turned to the angel that was guarding the door.

“Cas, how much would you object to me ganking your dick-brother?” the older Winchester asked receiving a grunt from Gabriel.

“A lot,” Castiel replied, “enough blood has been spilt in the wars. I think Gabriel, as the only archangel to care for humans, should be the one to lead the angels.”

“I’m not a leader,” the trickster argued back and waved his hand in the air, “I’m a solo-act, and I don’t want that power.”

“Which is exactly _why_ you should rule,” Castiel informed and made the archangel sit up to look at him.

“ _You_ won’t lead heaven because you _want_ to lead heaven?” Gabriel asked skeptically, “you’re afraid of power?” The weak angel turned his head away without responding, but his action was more than enough answer.

“Everyone who’s debating ruling in heaven has an interest in ruling, because of the power and status it comprises. You don’t want status nor power. You literally don’t care about status,” Castiel began to explain his reasoning with everybody in the room listening and turned to stare at his elder celestial. “Your actions on Earth has proven that you are capable of some fairness and you would never spill blood needlessly. And whereas the majority of angels hold no concern for humans, you do.”

“You learnt your lesson when you swallowed purgatory, so all of that fits in on you,” Gabriel stated, unmoved by the angel’s thoughts, “but you are afraid that you didn’t learn and will cause more destruction in heaven, I get it.”

“So will you do it?” Castiel asked after a moment of silence.

“No,” Gabriel answered simply and lay down.

“Why?”

“Because I promised to do something.”

“What?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“Can you rule after you’ve fulfilled your oath?” the inquisitive angel asked and Gabriel got a picture of a peaceful heaven with a small hatchling learning what it meant to be an angel. Maybe he could change everything, maybe heaven could be a place of happiness again, maybe angels could get off their high horse, maybe they could remove the stick up their butts and maybe they could realize that they were creatures like everybody else, maybe they would begin to mate, and maybe they could find happiness.

“Maybe,” the word escaped Gabriel’s lips before he realized that he’d said it, “but I will be terrible at it. Ruling was Michael’s thing.”

“You want _that_ arch-dick to rule?!” Dean almost swore.

“Yes,” Castiel answered with a nod while Gabriel just rubbed his temple with a groan, “when will you have fulfilled your oath?”

“I have no idea. It has never been done before. And it has never been done in the way it’s being done, but by my calculations, a year, or more, a couple of years, ten maybe… definitely less than twenty,” the archangel hummed to himself; he had no idea how quickly the egg would burn through his wings. It needed heaven, and currently the only thing that Gabriel had that held the same building material as the shell was in his wings, so as it grew it would need that material. He’d started to pluck feathers from them and store them for when he got the egg, and grew out new feathers that slowly gained the same material, created by his grace. He was horrified by his actions, but it was necessary.

“How did you survive your death? Were you revived?” Castiel continued his interrogation.

“Bro,” Gabriel huffed and shook his head, “Lucifer has been locked in a cage for ages and I’ve been playing a trickster deity. Do you really think that he would be able to pull one over _my_ head?”

“Why didn’t you return to help?”

“I was weakened from the fight, and from finding out how to open the cage,” Gabriel lied expertly and Sam just kept staring at him, unsure of which story was the truth, but the sincerity in his voice in the church told him that the angel probably had died. “If I came with you I would’ve just been in your way. Besides, I can’t do everything for you, you know? If I do, I’ll soon enough end up having to wipe your bum… By the way, baby-bro, can you tell me where the different fractions of angels used to hang out in the states?”

“I can,” Castiel said and narrowed his eyes again, “what are going to do with the knowledge?”

“Avoid those places like the plague,” Gabriel answered honestly, knowing that they most likely had more deserters nearby, and chewed with disappointment the last of his lollipop, “I’m going to find a nice, safe place to hang out to make it through my vow. No angels, no demons, no creatures and no demigods that want me dead. Hopefully no one will find me, because I will most likely grow weaker, and I prefer to not die.”

“I know the safest place on Earth,” Castiel confessed and received disturbed protests from both Winchesters.

“No fucking way!” Dean called out. “It was bad enough with Crowley! Not an arch-dick!”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. It sounds like he’s going to be reckless,” Sam voiced worriedly.

“Wow, talk about a bad reaction,” Gabriel suddenly grinned amused and sat up again, while Castiel reflected on both arguments against it.

“Gabriel, does the oath involve you causing trouble?”

“No, but I will need a safe place to just crash, and relax,” the archangel smirked; hanging out with the little rebel and the Winchesters wasn’t a bad idea, “how safe is it?”

“It’s the safest place on Earth, warded against any evil ever created.”

“Really?”

“No! No! Absolutely not!” Dean argued loudly, but was ignored by both angels.

“Yes.”

“Can I ward it against angels?”

“I guess it’s possible, but then we will be trapped inside.”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby-bro, I’ll create an exception for the two of us,” Gabriel grinned, seeing Castiel tilt his head, but Sam was quicker at asking the question.

“You can do that?” the hunter wondered surprised.

“Yep,” Gabriel stated with a nod.

“No! Objection!” Dean called out, jumping off the bed and dragging his brother with him, “we’re having a meeting now!” The elder Winchester shoved everyone in his team out the door and then turned to Gabriel.

“Stay put, asshole!” The door slammed shut and the archangel tilted his head, wondering if he was going to check the window in the bathroom, and disregarded the order.

“Okay, Cas, _what the hell_?” Dean grumbled, facing his friend and stared at him accusingly.

“If I can keep an eye on Gabriel and speak with him while he completes his oath I will be able to convince him further to rule. If it’s for less than twenty years I will be able to keep heaven peaceful and maybe take on the role of ruler for a short while. I am dying, and I’m afraid that someone bad will start to rule when I’m gone.”

“And how’s Gabriel _not_ a bad ruler?” Dean growled irritated.

“He is one of a few angels that doesn’t see humanity as a stain on creation. He would never decide to restart the apocalypse,” Castiel explained while staring at the human.

“But why does he have to come to the bunker?!” Dean complained and continued as the angel opened his mouth, “I know, I know. You want to keep an eye on him and convince him.” The hunter turned to his brother. “And why are you so quiet? Don’t tell me you’re on Cas’ side?”

“I don’t like the idea, but he might be able to help out. He knows a lot of things,” Sam stated logically, feeling fearful of what kind of chaos the trickster could cause in their home and how much his brother and Gabriel would end up fighting.

“Shit, two against one,” Dean swore, hating the fact that they were bringing another pest into their home.

“Three against one,” a muffled voice came from the other side of the door, sounding as if Gabriel was pressed against it, and made the older Winchester growl in irritation.

“Your vote doesn’t count!” the dark-haired hunter yelled at the wooden entrance while Sam rolled his eyes and opened it, seeing how the trickster jumped back.

“If you’re going to stay with us there will be rules!” Dean declared as he entered and folded his arms. “No fucking around with our stuff! No trickster shit! And, no being an annoying dick!”

“Or what?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Or I’ll torch your ass in holy oil!” Dean threatened, making Gabriel roll his eyes; torching a celestial in holy oil would only kill regular angels, not archangels.

“Sure, you do that and see what happens,” Gabriel smirked and walked over to Sam’s chair, seeing the commercial end on the TV. The screen flickered and the intro music for the newest episode of Doctor Sexy MD started. Dean quickly pulled out another beer from the fridge and got into his bed.

“When did this episode come out?” the elder Winchester asked himself with a frown while trying to not argue with the trickster anymore. Dean knew that Castiel would bring the archangel to the bunker whether he liked it or not, but it wasn’t like he could be angry with the angel that had pulled him out of hell, or perdition, whatever.

“In two hours,” Gabriel answered and materialized a bowl of popcorn with a miniscule amount of celestial powers, receiving a stare from the hunter. Maybe having a trickster around wouldn’t be too bad?

Maybe, with a bit of luck…

Or a lot…

Who was he kidding? It will be awful…

Probably worse…

What was worse than awful?


	6. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel isn’t allowed to fly. Sam washes clothes and Dean takes a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-07  
> Words: 4 700

They checked out the next morning and Gabriel had been slightly unhappy when he had to get in the car since Castiel refused to tell him the location. The trickster had begun sighing every few minutes after an hour, so after a while Dean had yelled at him to stop. He had just stared at the driver for a moment before turning to his brother. For a minute Gabriel stared, just clearing his mind, but then realized that he was in the proximity of an angel. Even though it wasn’t very likely that another angel showed up he could always blame any use of celestial power on Castiel and pretend to be human.

Gabriel had happily materialized a tablet and a pair of headphones, and then played games while listening to several comedians at the same time. As evening came he tried to be nice and offered to drive, but Dean had just glared at him, telling him that ‘no angel touches Baby’. The archangel then spent the rest of the drive in silence. He didn’t know how far away they were from the ‘safest place on Earth’ and he didn’t know how long it would take them to get there, which made everything a lot more frustrating. The only thing he knew was that they had reached Kansas after driving through the night, and he didn’t want to ask ‘are we there yet?’ like a child.

As they reached a town that morning he hopefully looked out the car window. They passed the outskirts and then stopped at an enormous retail store.

“We’re going to get new supplies,” Sam informed as they got out of the car on the parking lot and turned to Gabriel. Dean and Castiel immediately headed off, as of habit, leaving the younger Winchester with the archangel. “I don’t know if you want to follow inside since you can just will whatever you want into existence, but we’ve been out on the road for quite some time, so the food is spoiled. There’s a park just around the corner if you just want to stretch your legs. Once I’m done shopping my stuff I’ll head into a small organic store opposite of the park, so when you see me we’ll be done.”

Then Sam turned around and walked away, leaving Gabriel alone. He could escape and they would never find him again, a quick thought passed thought his mind, but he was too curious. ‘Safest place on Earth’ was a powerful claim, and Gabriel was very interested in seeing if it really was true. He walked around the corner of a building and headed into the park. It was a small place with a few trees and a wall of tall bushes shielding it from the surrounding streets. He entered and sat down on a bench so that he could keep an eye out for the human giant that was Sam Winchester. Nothing really happened as he sat there and watched an old-looking, stone fountain sprinkle water. A few people passed by, most of whom greeted him, which told him that it was definitely not in a big city.

As Castiel wasn’t there he pulled out his six wings from his body, keeping them in the dimension they were supposed to inhabit; invisible to humans and harmless to all. They ached after how he’d abused them by having them inside his body and he stretched them wide before watching which feathers had the most essence of heaven. Gabriel threw a quick glance around before he reached his hand into the other dimension. He bit back a yell in pain as he pulled out a feather, cursing his Father for having created them so sensitive to the loss of feathers. He took a breath to calm down and did it again, and again, and in the end he held a handful of feathers gleaming a reddish golden in the sunlight. Gabriel felt a spasm of ice run through his body, telling him that one of his wings was bleeding grace. He healed the wound and watched as the feathers seemed to melt into his hand. Now they were safe in his treasury, together with the rest of the feathers he’d pulled and all the other things he’d chosen to collect over the years.

He used his wings to make powerful beats in the other dimension and extended them as much as he could. After having had them squeezed together within him he could feel each feather tingle and it just made him want to take flight. He let out a small sigh, repressing the wish to soar into the air and do maneuvers and continued to wait. After what had to be half an hour, Gigantor walked passed on the other side of the street. Gabriel watched as the brown-haired man picked out a large assortment of fruits and vegetables from the outdoor stands and then headed inside. 

* * *

Sam picked out more vegetables, berries and fruits from inside, happy that he could contribute to the farmers around the area. As he was picking out a new tea to try he glanced up over the shelf and saw what appeared to be Gabriel chasing away children from a younger girl. Intrigued, he saw how the archangel bent down to pick up something from the ground, but he couldn’t just stand there and watch, he had to pay.

* * *

“There, there,” Gabriel cooed in a gentle voice and picked up an arm of the torn teddy bear and a piece of the stuffing, “it’ll be alright. You can always get a new one.”

“I know,” the girl sighed sadly as she got down on her knees and begun picking up small pieces of the stuffing, “it’s just that my mom gave it to me. She was feeling better that week, and then she died. Cancer.” The archangel stared at the small human that had laid out a handkerchief on the ground and placed the filling on it, probably intending to carry all of it home.

“And that belonged to your mother too?” Gabriel wondered quietly, reading the name ‘Joyce’ as he crouched down and handed her the arm.

“No, to my grandmother actually,” the little girl stated and took the offered piece with a heart-wrenching smile. The angel got down to his knees and begun helping her pick up the smaller pieces. Without the girl knowing it he took a quick gaze at her soul. She shone despite the sorrow and the pain she was in, but not as brightly as most children.

“Hey, kiddo,” Gabriel began and pushed the larger pieces of the bear that had been lying on the side to the handkerchief, “there are good things in life, sometimes.” With a single poke to the stuffing the toy was back together. He didn’t know why he did it, but he guessed that he felt empathy for her having lost a parent.

“What? How did you-?” she looked at him with surprised eyes, but he just smiled with a finger to his lips, hushing her.

“My name’s Loki. That’s L, O, K, I. I’m a god, and there’s magic in the world,” Gabriel whispered with a wink and turned himself invisible the moment he finished the sentence. The girl gasped and looked around before picking up the handkerchief and the restored teddy bear.

“Thank you, Loki,” she whispered to the toy and ran away, vanishing behind a bush.

* * *

Sam smiled warmly from where he saw the last of the exchange; the archangel _clearly_ had a soft side, but he seemed intent on hiding it behind pranks and silly remarks. He quietly walked out of the store and then looked around. The trickster was still invisible so Sam kept walking.

“Where’s the dick?” Dean asked as he leaned on the car when Sam showed up.

“Still here,” Gabriel answered as the younger hunter placed the rest of his groceries in the trunk.

“Invisible dick, hum,” Dean noted and seemed thoughtful, “nope, still hate you.”

“Invisible dick,” Gabriel droned as he opened the door on the impala, “that’s a good prank. Thank you, Dean-o.”

“Try it on me and I’ll cut yours off,” Dean warned and got in.

* * *

Gabriel turned visible when they drove through a short tunnel while heading out from the town. He was staring out the window while feeling waves of ache travel from his wings. Having the limbs squashed into his body was still uncomfortable, even though he’d had it for millennia. He threw a glance to his brother’s wings, seeing them charred to the bone from when he’d fallen and with only a few burnt feathers left. Gabriel wished he could help him, heal him, but in order for that to work Castiel had to have his own grace. Gabriel turned away and concentrated on not showing any discomfort. The world went by him and he lost track of time, but it wasn’t long before the roads became smaller and then they turned off and stopped.

“Finally,” Dean said happily and got out. Gabriel jumped out and immediately looked around, seeing that they were in a small forest clearing. There was a road passing the place, but they had driven into what looked like a turning place. A large iron door was buried halfway into the ground and lead into a large hill, or small mountain, whatever you’d like to call it. Sam unlocked the door while Dean opened the trunk and handed Castiel bags, before grabbing some himself. Gabriel looked into the trunk, grabbing the brothers’ travel bags and a few heavy grocery bags.

“You don’t have to take the heaviest bags,” Sam commented and made Gabriel raise an eyebrow.

“You forget that I’m an archangel, Samsquatch. I could throw the car a couple of miles if I wanted to,” the celestial being stated and saw how an embarrassed expression passed the hunter’s face.

“Right, sorry, I didn’t... think,” Sam confessed and took the rest of the bags, mostly consisting of his green vegetation, flora, leaves and whatever else his kind of herbivore ate.

“In a hole in the ground there lived two hobbits and heaven’s winged little rebel. This better not be a dirty hole,” the trickster mumbled as he began to follow the half-giant, unaware of how Sam’s lips twitched in amusement from hearing his reference.

To say that Gabriel was pleasantly surprised when he entered the bunker would be a gross understatement. He’d expected grey concrete walls, floors, ceilings and gangly tables, chairs and other crappy furniture. What he, however, hadn’t expected was a 1930s five-star hotel buried under ground. Sure, everything inside was outdated, but that would be easy to fix, once he got the angel-warding up.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” a voice called out from the kitchen as Sam and Gabriel entered. “I’ll go park the car!” Dean vanished out the room and Sam almost threw up. Leaving groceries for a month in the bunker wasn’t a good idea, but they never really had cases that took longer than a few days. Gabriel threw a glance to his brother that was curiously staring into the fridge; clearly something in there was growing. The archangel placed the bags on the tiles of the floor and snapped his fingers, more for the drama of it than anything else, making the smell and the rotting things inside vanish.

“All of a sudden having an archangel around doesn’t look too bad,” Gabriel noted to himself in a theatrical manner, seeming overly thoughtful.

“Yes, thank you,” Sam said gratefully.

“You’re abusing your powers,” Castiel pointed out as he began to fill the fridge, but he didn’t seem to care about it.

“Yes, I have for millennia,” Gabriel confessed, equally indifferent of it; if his Father objected He would have to tell him Himself, but that only _might_ stop him from doing it, after a lot of whining.

Who was he kidding? If his Father, Creator of Heaven and Earth, showed up in front of him in all His splendor Gabriel would probably wet himself like a scared little puppy. The angels who had met Him had ever only met small parts of Him, so to not frighten them to death, and Gabriel would still shiver whenever he thought of when he’d been given life and a name. He knew that a full-grown archangel wasn’t even as strong as a grain of sand if their Father was all the deserts combined.

“I guess you’d like a tour of the place,” Sam suggested to the trickster as he brushed his hands together once all the groceries were in place. The hunter showed him around, first taking him to a storage room behind the kitchen with a large devil’s trap and chains in the middle; apparently Crowley’s guestroom, whenever he stayed over.

“There are more than one storage room. Most have numbers that corresponds with certain files. This room however has ingredients to spells and other things like that. There are stuff everywhere in some storages and one storage has sealed boxes with what we’re guessing are magical objects. We’re not messing with those. There are weapons, amulets and things like that in another.”

Sam presented the war-room opposite to the kitchen with old computers and a table with a glowing world map before bringing him into the large library just beyond it.

“Here’s where I spend most of my time,” the younger Winchester commented and made a gesture to the tables.

On the floor below, the hunter showed him the sleeping quarters, the showers and cleaning room next to it. There was a small sickbay with a few beds and a small room filled with medicine of different kinds, all of them probably out of date. An equally small laboratory part had old machines and a single new-looking microscope. On the floor underneath that there were a shooting range, a garage, an ammunition-making room and a room with more computers together with an electricity room that could shut down the base.

As they got back to the library Castiel was sitting by the table, looking straight forward with a distant expression and curious as Gabriel was he immediately listened in, hearing him speaking with the others, but decided to shut it out as they were talking about some small disagreement that had occurred in heaven between two seraphs.

“Can I set up the angel-warding?” Gabriel wondered as Sam picked up his bag.

“Would you mind waiting? I’m only going to throw some of my clothes in the washer and I’d love to see what the warding looks like,” Sam smiled hopefully at the trickster, trying to look as pleading as possible.

“I want to see it too,” Castiel uttered from his place by the table.

“I guess,” Gabriel shrugged, looking from his fellow celestial to the hunter. When Sam left he followed, as he had nothing better to do. It wasn’t until after Sam had dropped his clothes in the washer and went to his room to empty the rest of the things he’d brought that a thought struck Gabriel.

“Hey, there are a lot of available rooms, could I have one?” the archangel wondered with an innocent tilt of his head. Sam stared at him for a moment, stunned by the question.

“What are you going to need a room for? You don’t even sleep,” the hunter answered as he picked up his laptop and the related charger.

“Can I?”

“Yea, sure, I guess. It’s not like Dean or I need more than the ones we already have,” Sam shook his head and walked out of his room, changing the subject. “What do you need to make the sigils?”

“Just myself and Cassie. I will need a pinch of our graces,” Gabriel specified and followed the Winchester to the library.

“Hey, baby-bro, you wanna learn my warding?” the archangel grinned as he passed the table. Castiel maintained his distant look, but got up as Sam placed the computer on the table and both of them followed him to the corner of the library. Gabriel cut his arm with his archangel blade and used a finger to draw a symbol in blood on the wall. It was a complex symbol, but mostly resembled a skewed triangle, once all the pattern was done. Castiel tilted his head and watched his fellow celestial make another cut on himself, but this time in his pinkie. Using the smallest finger, Gabriel made small dots along the wall until he got to the next corner, where he used blood from his arm to draw the next shape, looking nothing like his first. Another line of dots followed, but these just continued through the library and the computer room and into the kitchen. The distance between the dots varied and Sam wondered quietly how much it mattered. Gabriel then returned to the library to make a last line of dots that continued to the thick entrance where he drew a large circle, but the lowest part was missing. He made a tiny circle in the opening, taking up half the space, and imbued a bit of grace into it.

“Baby-bro, now it’s your turn,” Gabriel turned to the angel and pointed to what was last of the opening in the large circle, “just draw a small circle in your blood and leave a drop of grace in it.”

“I’ve never seen a warding like this,” Castiel confessed and did what Gabriel had done, cutting his arm and used a finger to make a circle, connecting the parts of the large circle.

“Of course, you haven’t seen it. I’ve never showed it to anyone until now,” the trickster grinned and turned to the clean wall and began on a new line of dots.

“You made this?” Sam asked stunned and watched the archangel work. “How’d you come up with it?”

“Meh, saw this and that. Felt some magic. Met some people,” he shrugged carelessly, but Sam got the point; he didn’t want to talk about it.

It took them an hour to completely seal the bunker from all angels. Castiel just followed and observed while Sam took pictures of the symbols. Gabriel had made five sigils on the highest floor and four on the lowest. As he finished he told them that it would act like a bouncy-castle for angels. When they tried to enter from flight they would be shot away in the same speed they tried to enter. If they landed outside and tried to walk in they would go headfirst into an invisible wall. If they tried to teleport from outside they would be sent elsewhere. With one of the sigils he could choose where the angel materialized on Earth, and this time he’d chosen Antarctica. They returned to the door and Gabriel had placed his hand within the circle of blood. He’d used his grace to activate the protection, and all the blood around the bunker had shone in white before vanishing.

“I’m unable to see the protection,” Castiel immediately observed as he looked around.

“That’s the point,” Gabriel grinned and relaxed his grace, letting it expand to his entire body, beginning to remake his halo of light and made him sigh relieved. “Now if anyone want something I will be decorating my room.” With a wave the archangel turned on his heel and ran towards the rooms; he had a lot to prepare for when he got the egg. It was incredible dangerous to stay anywhere near the Winchesters since they tended to get in trouble just by breathing, but Gabriel could sense all of the protection that the bunker held, and damn, it was well done. Standing ovation to the Men of Letters.

The archangel spent the remaining day inside his room. He’d immediately teleported all the furniture to the room next to his so that he could easier paint the walls in symbols. He used his blood to shield it from incursion, appreciating that he, as an angel, could replenish it, otherwise he’d been unconscious before he’d finished.

He cheerfully looked around the blood-covered walls thinking that it seemed fitting for a serial killer who enjoyed toying with his victims. Not even Hannibal would’ve remained unimpressed. To hide and protect the sigils, he created a thin fake wall around the room and after pulling out as many feathers as he could endure he got to the decorating.

His favorite large, round, maroon satin bed appeared in one corner of the room. Since the room was square and the bed round an empty space remained in the corner of the room beside the bed. Gabriel tilted his head, seeing a long, dark cabinet appear and fill up the space. He stuffed it with different kinds of sweets and clothes before creating a small bedside table, also rounded to fit along the head of the bed. Beside the bedside table a small desk appeared. The next inner corner got a small stone pond, decorated with small snakes filled with runes, so that he whenever he wanted would be able to get out the room. The transportation device in the corner wouldn’t be activated until he wanted it to, and as far as he knew, only he and whoever he wanted to would be able to use it. It could send him deep into one of the forests of Bolivia, where he had long ago created a teleport just like it, in case of an emergency, just outside a stone cave within he’d hidden another safe room. It could also send him to a lot of other places, but he wasn’t certain how many of those stone fountains were left.

A large, silver mirror was materialized on the wall beside the tiny pond. Around its edges the dead language of Akkadian formed a faulty spell that could easily be corrected by filling up one of the engraved dips, not that anyone read Akkadian anymore. Not really knowing how to decorate the rest of the room Gabriel placed one large cupboard next to the mirror and another next to the door, and filled all the shelves with candy.

As he left the room he placed a hand on the door and watched how lines of gold created a fire breathing fox with a flowing tail as large as its body and three pairs of small golden wings. He smiled at it and then listened for sounds inside the bunker. He didn’t know the time, but he could hear someone snore so he assumed that it was in the middle of the night.

Gabriel listened in as he passed the younger Winchester’s room, hearing a quiet breathing and continued up the stairs searching for his fellow celestial being. Castiel was standing in the dark in the library, unmoving and barely even breathing, but as Gabriel entered he turned to face him soundlessly.

“Congratulations, baby-bro,” the archangel grinned, turning on the automatic lights even though both the angels could see perfectly well in the dark, “you make creepy an art form. What do you usually do when your pets are sleeping?”

“They are _not_ my pets, and I wait for them to wake up,” Castiel answered and tilted his head as Gabriel no longer was hiding his grace and he could see it give him an intricate crown of light.

“Really?” the trickster asked and looked around the room, “you just stand here all night?”

“Yes, and speak with the others,” the angel answered with a shallow nod, quietly wondering where his superior’s wings were as he now should be able to see them together with the halo.

“Well, that’s kind of boring,” Gabriel grumbled and looked around; he’d been on Earth for so long that ‘doing nothing’ like Castiel, was going to kill him of boredom. Angel or not, Gabriel was not used to just waiting like one. “What about the books?”

“I’ve read them all. There is no mention of the Mark of Cain in them, and Sam was not pleased when I told him. I believe he’s chosen to ignore it and see for himself,” the celestial informed and it was right at that moment when Gabriel looked around he noticed that there was a distinct lack of entertainment in this bunker. Even a simple TV would improve it.

* * *

Dean yawned and stretched contently as he woke up, and then turned over to just relax. He worried slightly that the trickster had gone wild and sent him somewhere, but for the moment he just didn’t care. Be it the 1930s or some TV show. His bed was warm and comfortable, and belonged to him.

After having lain in bed he decided to get up and shower since he’d been too tired after the drive to care about it. He clicked on the light and looked around; still his room, but with the arch-dick around one could never be certain. He grabbed some clothes and walked out; same fancy corridor in the same old bunker.

He entered the changing room, dumped his clothes and entered the showers, feeling how the water rolled off his skin. He threw a glance to the mark and absentmindedly scratched it before going back to scrubbing himself.

The elder Winchester was dying for a cup of coffee as he ruffled the towel over his short hair. He yawned and looked around as he started to put on his clothes, but he’d only managed to get into his boxers before he turned to stare at a door opposite to the hallway. Not to boast of his observation skills as he’d lived in the bunker for months now, but he was fairly certain that there had never been a door there, which meant that it was one too many inside the room. Dean pulled a simple white t-shirt over his head as he walked closer and then carefully opened it. His eyes widened as he saw a large room with two pools.

“What the-,” he mumbled and entered, staring into the pool closest to him. It had lights inside the water on the edges. He bent down and carefully touched the water, feeling that it was slightly cold. The other pool on the other hand had small amounts of steam rising from it, so Dean assumed that it was warm, which he quickly confirmed. How had he missed the fact that they had pools? The hunter shook his head and returned to the changing room to get fully dressed before going up the stairs.

Everything looked exactly like it always had, until he got to the kitchen. Dean stopped, seeing that everything looked different. All the old equipment had vanished and been replaced by their modern equivalent. Dean shook his head, deciding that it probably was the trickster that had been messing around, but if they got two pools and a modern kitchen he wouldn’t be the one to complain. He made himself some coffee and took out a pie that he’d bought the day before; the perfect breakfast.

Like every morning he headed towards the library, knowing that Castiel would be there and his brother if he’d woken up. Dean froze in the entrance, seeing that bookshelves to his right had been moved and in their place a large grey sectional sofa with a low, dark-brown table had taken its place. His brother was sitting by his computer on his usual place by the table with an old book opened while both angels were staring at a large flat screen TV that hung from the ceiling, but he could barely hear anything from it.

Gabriel noticed when the older hunter showed up and waved with a grin, while Castiel tilted his head ever so slightly at the almost soundless TV.

“Since _when_ do we have a pool?” Dean asked loudly and made his brother look up from the book he was translating.

“We have a _pool_?” Sam asked surprised and turned to stare at the archangel, who just pretended to not notice while watching the TV.

“Since approximately 04.23, when Gabriel decided to misuse his powers,” Castiel informed in an unconcerned voice without taking his eyes of the TV, “again…”

“Oh, shush brother, and study human behavior,” Gabriel smirked.

“You’re _not_ showing him porn, are you?” Dean asked suspiciously, not really believing that his brother would allow it in his proximity, but with the trickster around anything could happen.

“No, he’s not ready for that yet,” the trickster mused and made a gesture to the TV, “it’s just a romance comedy, so there’s nothing weird going on.”

“Yea, as if there’s nothing weird going on here, like the fact that we’re living underground with two angels,” Dean muttered and sat down by the end of the table with his breakfast.


	7. The Closest Thing to Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is hyperactive. Sam and Gabriel bond. Dean is unhappy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-08  
> Words: 4 700

Sam slowly got over the fact that the archangel had started living in their home even though he drew a lot of strangeness into it. He’d once woken up from the sound of his door opening and had heard Castiel whisper to his celestial kin to leave him alone.

“Doesn’t he look peaceful?” Gabriel had whispered back, ignoring the request.

“Yes, but they don’t like to be watched while they sleep. Some of the times they can sense it and it makes their rest less revitalizing,” Castiel’s voice had answered.

“Don’t you wonder what it’s like to dream?” the archangel had questioned, sounding almost nostalgic and wistful.

“I was human once, and it’s quite disturbing,” Castiel grumbled.

“That’s because _your face is disturbing_ ,” Gabriel argued childishly in a quiet tone, “so you’re telling me that you _never_ had any happy dreams?”

“I had many happy dreams, but the act of being somewhere while not being there, while being unconscious and conscious at the same time, with things keep seemingly obeying and disobeying the laws of nature, all at the same time, was very disconcerting to me. Now leave Sam and Dean alone.”

“You’re no fun,” the archangel had complained and then the door had slowly closed. Sam had groaned in his head, wondering if he would have to lock the door or set up angel-warding in his room, but then he’d just turned around and fallen back to sleep and it had never happened again, as far as he was aware.

* * *

For a few days Gabriel had not been seen in the bunker, making both Dean and Sam worried. Dean because he apparently _knew_ a disaster was heading their way, and Sam because he thought that something horrible had happened, but as Sam went to fetch a file from one of the storage rooms he’d found a pillow fort tucked away in a corner, looking like a small purple castle. Inside, he found Gabriel sitting by the file cabinet that he’d been searching for, completely engrossed in the file he was reading.

“Is the inside bigger than the outside?” Sam had asked as he could almost stand in the fort and silently wondered where the light came from as there was no clear source.

“Yes, and welcome,” Gabriel had grinned and patted the place beside him, but Sam only stared at him cautiously. The archangel then gave him the tiniest of head tilts and a sad expression, making the hunter roll his eyes before sitting down cross-legged and carefully leaned on the wall, testing to see if he would accidently crash the castle, but his back was merely comfortably supported by the soft structure. Gabriel grinned and snapped his fingers, making a tiny table appear before the hunter with a cup of steaming tea. Sam stared at the cup, seeing that it was too close to him to be for the trickster so he picked it up and smelled it.

“Show-off,” Sam tried to mutter, but his lips just wanted to smile as he got a whiff of his favorite tea.

“It’s my job,” Gabriel waved nonchalantly with a hand and made a gesture to the cabinet beside himself, “what file may your humble servant get you?” Sam shook his head with amusement, knowing that the angel was anything but humble, but still described the file he wanted.

“Did you know that this guy Everhart had a theory that vampires found the blood of vegans better tasting compared to meat-eaters?” Gabriel asked as he handed over the file and then looked down to his own, “which means that vampires find _you_ tastier than your brother.”

“I’m not a vegan just because I’m healthier than my brother. I eat meat, and he based this on _what_ to be exact?” Sam wondered and placed the file on the table.

“Everhart teamed up with a couple of hunters and conducted some kind of study after killing most of the nest. They had five vampires left,” the archangel recited from the report.

“That’s not a very good study. The results could’ve come from the nest’s own preferences or even from the vampires’ matriarch or patriarch, and they might-,” Sam began to rant, but was interrupted.

“Yea, he says so in the end of the file, and that they need to find vampires for several other studies,” Gabriel stated and smiled at the hunter’s thoughtful expression. “And the guy, Abell, had many interesting theories on werewolves and their hunger for hearts. I think I read it a day or so ago. Those Men of Letters were certainly interested in what they were doing.”

Dean had grumbled several hours later when he found the castle and them laughing at different theories while discussing creatures preferred blood types. He’d stuck his head in through the door and yelled at them to not just vanish since he thought something had happened, but his scolding was just directed at Sam.

* * *

As Sam one morning got to the library with his cup of tea and breakfast he found the two angels sitting on opposite sides of the table with two new laptops. Castiel seemed to be reading something while Gabriel sat with his feet at the edge of the table and the chair tipped back on two legs, rocking lightly. The archangel had his face in a file, quickly flipping through it while the keys on his laptop happily tapped away on their own, rapidly creating page up and page down of text.

“Good morning,” Sam greeted as he walked past them and received a similar reply from Castiel while Gabriel absentmindedly waved with a small ‘hey’, “so what are you two doing?”

“Copying the paper file I’m reading to the computer. I’ve already downloaded the ones that I’ve read,” Gabriel smiled without taking his eyes off the text.

“Researching justice systems,” Castiel answered and got back to his reading.

“I suggested that heaven could make its own ‘Judge Judy’, but apparently sending it down to Earth is ‘ _completely unacceptable’_ and I have a problem with ‘ _my ability to take celestial-issues seriously’_ ,” Gabriel smirked amused as he formed quotation marks with his hands and shrugged, “but that’s just because disputes between angels are more often than not _stupid_. It can be about someone standing in the wrong place, because that’s where someone else usually stands, or that someone is standing too close to them, because 100 miles is too close, or that someone looked at them the wrong way. Heaven’s freakishly big, but apparently not big enough for angel-egos.”

“Once you take over, you will have to deal with things like this seriously. Angels must trust that you take them seriously,” Castiel assured confidently, treating Gabriel as an equal only because the archangel had repeatedly scolded him for holding back his opinions.

“Right,” Gabriel droned and rolled his eyes, “that’s why I told you to look up a better justice system that could fit angels, so that I can delegate everything like that, because if I’ll have to deal with it I’ll probably tear out my wings and declare myself a nephilim.” The archangel turned to the human. “And I’m not allowed to create a new reality to teach them a lesson, _nor_ am I allowed to send them to Earth without powers. What good is ruling if I can’t do anything _fun_?” Gabriel complained.

“You’re not allowed to abuse your power for your own amusement,” Castiel stated and glared at his celestial peer over his computer.

“I know, and I won’t, probably,” the trickster sighed deeply, thinking that he would have to create lots of systems so that problems would take care of themselves and he could be left alone.

“Really? 100 miles is too close? Or are you joking?” Sam wondered, astonished by the pettiness.

“I wish I was joking, but unfortunately that’s one of the most common quarrels between angels, although it doesn’t actually lead to bloodshed,” Gabriel sneered and then got back to reading the file and typing on the computer.

* * *

Sam was a bit surprised that Gabriel, _the trickster_ , hadn’t caused any kind of disaster during the following weeks, but he seemed to be too busy running through the corridors and digging through everything in the storages with the excited excuse ‘treasure hunt’. He’d made a mess in the library during one night, which had bothered Sam to the extent of yelling at the archangel, but it wasn’t really Gabriel’s fault that his mood had been foul that morning. Sam had been having constant nightmares about Lucifer the entire night and the fear of waking up in the cage only to see that everything had been fake caused him to shiver in terror.

“Oh?” Gabriel had looked around while cowering behind the couch, startled by the roar that Sam had produced, and then scratched his arm before saying a quick, “sorry?” With a snap of his fingers the library had been back to its old self, save for the couch and TV. Castiel had just stared at the hunter wide-eyed from shock.

One day he’d noticed that the couch was a different color than before, but he’d ignored it as he didn’t actually care. Every day it seemed to have a new color and after a while it started to bother him, but it made Sam begin to wonder what else the trickster might be doing to keep himself from causing complete and utter destruction. The day it had the sickly grey-pink-ish color of a corpse Sam went to find Gabriel.

“Naturally,” Sam sighed as he found him in a storage and only saw the behind of the archangel sticking out of a cabinet with small crystals in different colors scattered all-around, “Gabriel?”

“Yea?” the archangel answered from within the cabinet with an innocent voice. “Like the view?” he then asked and wiggled his backside.

“Can the couch be another color? I even prefer ‘hot pink’ over ‘corpse’ any day,” Sam asked and watched how the angel flickered and then stood in front of him.

“How long did it take you to notice?” the trickster asked eagerly with a huge grin.

“I have no idea. I didn’t care,” Sam shrugged and saw how the angel deflated. Seeing the happiness drain from Gabriel suddenly made him panic and think of a reply; he’d observed the couch go from yellow to red to green. “I think the first time I noticed it was when it was red, instead of grey.” He lied, hoping that the purpose of changing color was to see how observant they were.

“Okay,” the archangel grinned and then held up two bluish-black crystals, “do you know what these are?”

“No,” Sam confessed with a shake of his head.

“They are used to contain life,” Gabriel stated and held one in front of his golden-brown eye, “with the right spell you can literally suck life out of people and then use it to live for a long time. I’ve seen quite a few of these during my life, but never an entire box of them at once! I’m impressed!” The trickster looked to the cupboard, noticing that the entire floor was littered and then snapped his fingers, before smiling innocently and giving him a wink. “Like I was never here.”

“You wouldn’t survive without your powers. You’re addicted to them,” Sam mocked with an air of superiority, drawing a small chuckle from the trickster that took a step to stand beside him and threw an arm around his waist.

“Oh, the _things_ I could show you with my powers,” Gabriel winked, pressing their bodies together while wrapping a leg around the hunter’s and let a lust filled gaze wander over the man’s chest, “the things I could _do_ to you, Gigantor.” Much to the archangel’s satisfaction a dark blush spread from Sam’s cheeks and down his throat as he tried to get away. Gabriel released him and watched him hurry out. Sam hit his shoulder in the doorway and from the force that turned him he ended up walking straight into the wall. The trickster burst out into a laughing fit as the hunter swore lightly and walked away, rubbing his forehead, now both embarrassed and humiliated.

* * *

They had been in the bunker for a month and Gabriel was seemingly done exploring as he now sat most of the time in the library with the hunters and Castiel. Dean searched for cases and then took Castiel and vanished for a day or two, only to come back and announce that the case they’d found was ‘ _solved by another hunter’_ , ‘ _not a case’_ or _‘a simple salt and burn, we took care of it’_. He’d complained that the entire state of Kansas had run out of interesting cases, and whenever he’d called the local police stations about a potential case he’d asked about any grave desecrations and been informed that one or two had occurred. The bodies were dug up, salted and burnt, by what the police called Satanists and cannibals.

“We’re getting nowhere with the mark-research, and we’ve got no freaking cases!” Dean complained loudly and closed his laptop before taking a drink from his beer, thoroughly ignored and met with silence. He’d been complaining nonstop for a day.

“I could place you in a TV-series,” Gabriel suggested with a small chuckle and was unable to stop the evil grin from forming as he thought about it, “or you know, send you to the middle of the Amazon rainforest.”

“Yea, thanks for nothing, arch-dick,” the short-haired man answered with an annoyed huff and glared at the angel as he took a swipe of his beverage.

“Or I could,” Gabriel sent a glance to his fellow celestial and continued in a jaunty voice, “snap a blow-up doll into existence, it could even look like Cassie if you want.” Dean choked on his beer and struck his chest as he began to cough violently, making Gabriel unable to hold back his laughter.

“No being an annoying dick!” Dean called out in a strained voice, red-faced and then broke down coughing again, “it’s the rules! Or you’re out!”

“Yea, too late for that bucko,” Gabriel grinned and leaned forward, “I’ve got my own room now and I have behaved nicely.” The trickster turned to Sam, giving him the biggest puppy-eyes he could manage and an outdrawn, “right?”

“Well, I can’t say that he didn’t deserve that,” the younger hunter stated with a grin to his brother, seeing him try to hold back a cough with his eyes watering. Dean slammed the empty beer bottle into the table as he wasn’t able to voice his displeasure because of the cough. The hunter left the table and wandered to the kitchen to get another beer. Dean then got back to the library and sat down by the TV, flicking through the impossibly many channels while ignoring the rest in the room.

‘Find your soul mate today’ an ad for a dating site announced and Sam’s eyes stopped for a second before looking to the archangel.

“Gabriel,” Sam began curiously and continued as he got the celestial’s attention, “where do souls come from?” The trickster blinked, clearly surprised by the question, and Castiel looked up from his computer.

“What?” Dean asked disturbed from where he was sitting and turned to stare at his brother, “how do you go from finding us something to gank to souls?”

“Shut up,” Sam told his brother off before returning his interest to the archangel, “I asked Cas a while back, but he didn’t know. What about you, do you know?”

“You really wanna know where souls come from?” Gabriel asked in a suggestive tone and looked at the hunter with a sly smile.

“If this is some kind of ‘where babies come from’-talk I’m leaving,” Dean stated and turned back to the TV while receiving a questioning look from Castiel.

“Yes, I’m curious,” Sam answered and leaned forward, letting all his focus stay on the trickster, unaware how he made Gabriel feel like purring as he’d always loved to be the center of attention.

“I’d also like to know,” Castiel confessed seriously.

“Well, baby-bro, Samsquatch,” Gabriel grinned amused and knitted his fingers as he leaned forward and cleared his throat as he prepared to use his ‘story telling’-voice. “In the middle of a large garden in heaven there is a large lake, and in the middle of the large lake is a large tree. The lake shines like grace and the surface is almost always still, but if you look into it you can see it moving, weaving, almost as if it’s alive. Sometimes it might look like you see a creature down there, a fish perhaps, but there’s nothing there. Just like humans can look to the sky and see a rabbit in the clouds.” The archangel felt a warm feeling fill him as the hunter stared at him in fascination and continued.

“Thick stems, like that of tree roots comes up from the water and runs above the surface to the middle where they intertwine, forming what could be said to be a tree trunk. The crown of the tree spreads outwards over the lake, almost covering it completely. And in the crown small fruits are formed. They glow a vibrant orange and turns brighter as they grow. Once they are yellow they fall from the crown and lands in the lake. For a short while they float around and then they open up, like the pedals of a flower. The soul of pure white sends small sparks into the air, and when it stops the soul is wrapped by the yellow pedals and sinks to the bottom.” Gabriel wanted to laugh at the spellbound look on the hunter’s face, but he decided to just stop using his ‘story telling’-voice.

“And then I don’t know what happens. Father never told me, and I never managed to dive deep enough. Lucifer always kept an eye on me, and boy was he pissed when he had to drag me out of the lake again and again.” Sam blinked once Gabriel’s voice went back to his normal carefree voice, realizing that he’d been staring at the archangel in a way that probably was creepy.

“So there’s a soul’s tree,” Sam smiled and absentmindedly rested his head on his hand, “a tree of life, so to speak. It sounds beautiful. I’d love to see it someday. Alive or not, assuming I end up in heaven and isn’t roasting in hell.”

“There is no such place in heaven,” Castiel stated, making the hunter freeze and felt his hope turn to a rock; the trickster had tricked him again.

“What are you talking about?” Gabriel wondered so disturbed that Sam realized that he probably hadn’t lied, “of course there is.”

“No, there isn’t,” Castiel insisted, “when I swallowed Purgatory I went everywhere in heaven to make sure that none of Raphael’s followers went unpunished. The place you just described does not exist.”

“But I grew up there,” Gabriel seemed to deflate and slid down on the chair, inches away from pouting. “All the angels came from that tree. I watched tiny black berries turn larger and blue. And then fall from the tree, creating large waves. The spheres sank and stayed just below the surface, turned light blue and emerged again. Michael and Lucifer always competed over who could get to the new born angel fastest, but Lucifer was always the better flyer. Sometimes the angel-berry was caught on the pedals of a soul-flower and we had to hatch the egg.” The archangel smirked happily at the memory of them nesting with several eggs, but then recalled what they had been talking about. “But you’re saying that the lake isn’t there anymore? What’s in the middle of the garden?”

“No, there’s no lake nor any tree like that, only a large field,” Castiel stated and made his older brethren groan unhappily at the information, “but I do remember that some of the older angels talked about blue orbs, but I’ve never seen one.”

“Well, technically, angels are supposed to mate and repopulate their numbers like all the other creatures Daddy created, but I’m afraid that they are too much of stubborn idiots to actually do it,” Gabriel huffed annoyed, “so far only cupids and reapers are mating, and they keep their young away from others, which is probably a smart idea.”

“So angels have males and females,” Sam stated, feeling a bit surprised since he’d only ever heard Castiel refer to his kind as brothers.

“Nope, we’re genderless, or both genders, whatever you prefer, but angels are-, how do I put it…” Gabriel sighed.

“Dicks?” Dean suggested as he got up from the couch and approached, clearly having listened in on the conversation.

“Yea, let’s go with that,” Gabriel agreed, “most angels are prideful dicks that feel that they are above emotions and everything else.”

“So technically,” Dean chuckled as he sat down, equal parts amused and disturbed, “you and Cas could _get down_ and make tiny angel-babies.”

“ _Technically_ , yes. You wanna watch?” Gabriel retorted and wiggled his eyebrows, but Dean only looked appalled by the thought.

“A human would turn to ash at the mere sight of an angel’s true form,” Castiel informed in a factual voice.

“You’re objecting to the wrong thing here, Cas,” Dean muttered and used a hand to rub his eyes as if tired.

“You’re referring to the fact that I’m not objecting to mating with Gabriel?” the younger angel wondered and saw the hunter nod. “I would never object to that.” Dean’s eyebrows rose as he stared at his friend while Gabriel laughed wildly. “Gabriel is an archangel; it would be an honor to mate with him,” Castiel tried to explain.

“Oh, I see, it would be like fucking a celebrity,” Dean muttered and realized that they had ended up in a conversation that he wanted no part in, “let’s move on and find something to do.”

* * *

Dean spent most of the days in his room, only showing up during the morning and then for dinner. When Sam asked him if he was feeling well he’d muttered something about the fact that the mark was itching more, but the bloodlust hadn’t gone up or down. He hadn’t questioned his brother further, as he knew that Dean didn’t want to talk about it.

Sam was in the library with his computer in front of himself, but he was just staring blindly towards the kitchen as he thought. Castiel had told him that there was nothing in the Men of Letter’s books about the Mark of Cain and he found nothing on the internet or in the files. They’d questioned the archangel, but he only had information that they already knew. The only one who could tell them about the mark was Metatron, and he was locked in heaven’s prison. Dean had almost beaten the information out of him, betraying both Castiel and heaven’s trust, but now it appeared like they should’ve let him continue.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Gabriel leaned forward on the table so that he ended up in Sam’s field of vision and wagged a coin in front of the hunter.

“Only if it’s chocolate,” Sam muttered to the trickster that tilted his head.

“Deal,” Gabriel agreed with a nod and smirked. Sam looked to the penny, seeing that it now was a chocolate coin and took it. Without caring that he got it from a trickster Sam ate it grumpily and sighed; ever since there had appeared a drawer full of candy in the kitchen he’d been unable to not steal a few, but he doubted that the archangel would care as he had a never-ending supply.

“I’m bored, and have no leads on any leads to information about the Mark of Cain,” the younger Winchester complained and then stared at the archangel, “how are you? Are you settling into the bunker alright?”

“Yea, it’s perfectly fine,” Gabriel stated with an uncharacteristic calmness to him, “I’ve had worse. A lot worse, and this place is nice. It really is a safe place.”

“And how are you handling not pranking people?” Sam continued and saw the grin return to the archangel’s face.

“I’m fine now, the withdrawal is pretty much over-.”

“Wait! What withdrawal?” Sam asked shocked and saw how the trickster’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Why do you think that pagans have such a hard time not getting blood sacrifices? It’s hard to stop using the ability, and the feeling of getting weaker is terrible,” Gabriel replied with a shrug and studied the human as he continued, “you of all people should understand. You got rid of your addiction.” Sam tensed as he remembered the demon blood that he’d ingested and the power it had given him. He nodded and gave the archangel a curious look.

”How bad has it been for you? I mean, I haven’t seen you hallucinating, heard you yelling or anything like that,” Sam questioned quietly and threw a glance to Castiel that was watching TV.

“It’s been painful, but it was probably worse for you… I’ve kept myself busy,” Gabriel seemed thoughtful for a moment, “celestial powers doesn’t cause any side effect, thank Dad for that, but I’ve been off pagan power for quite some time now. I need to purify myself as much as I can before I begin my oath.”

“But what about the chocolate coin just now? And everything you’ve done in the bunker?”

“Celestial powers, and more celestial powers.”

“Oh,” Sam said a bit surprised and was about to ask another question when Gabriel’s head snapped to the hunter’s mobile, which was lying on the table beside his computer. The next instant the thing began to ring.

“Did you do that?” he asked suspiciously, reading the ID as ’hidden number’.

“No, but I can see signals,” Gabriel shrugged and caused more questions to plop into Sam’s head, “you should get that if you’re bored. It smells like Wisconsin.” The hunter threw an inquisitive gaze to the celestial, but then picked up the phone.

“Yea, hello.”

“Sam? It’s Garth,” the former hunter’s voice declared happily, “I tried calling Dean, but it just went straight to voicemail.”

“Garth,” Sam exclaimed with a smile, “it’s great to hear from you! Everything well?”

“Yes, and no,” Garth hummed a bit to himself, “um, where do I begin? Right. Are you busy?”

“No, we’re completely free. Do you have a case for us?” the hunter asked and eagerly leaned forward.

“Yea, unless you have problems working with us. Last time was… not good,” Garth stated with a nervous sigh, knowing that the relationship between his family and his hunter-friends was tense.

“No, no problem,” Sam stated quickly and made the archangel raise his eyebrow at how impatient he sounded.

“Um, how do I begin? Eh, it was _huge_ storm a couple of weeks ago and Father Jim picked up a scent outside the house. It was blowing hard so it was from far away. It was something he’d never sensed before, but he didn’t think anything of it. A week ago he picked it up again. A local girl, Amelia, -bless her heart- went missing and as he passed by her house he picked up that same scent. He called in me and Bess to do some research. We found a witch who had recently arrived to town and caught her. Her clothes carried the scent of Amelia -bless her heart- and that foreign thing. We tried to get her to talk, but she chanted and suddenly burst into flames. There was only ash left of her, but we collected it, in case she would regenerate from it, so we’ve got a witch in a bottle. We have no idea of what to do with her, but we’ve still got that foreign thing to deal with. So if you’re not too busy you could come and visit. We’ve got extra beds and food, and a great internet connection.”

“We’d love to!” Sam exclaimed with a grin, happy that they finally had a case, and made a quick calculation of how long it would take them to drive. “We’ll be there by lunch tomorrow!”

“Great, we’ll talk more then! I can’t wait to see you two!” Garth said happily and ended the call.


	8. Team Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel likes witches. Cas eats dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-09  
> Words: 4 900

The trickster had innocently suggested that he could stay in the bunker since he wasn’t a big fan of witches, which was a lie of vast proportions. Gabriel loved witches, especially when they didn’t know that he was both a pagan god and an archangel, but he wanted to be able to pull out feathers without anyone seeing him, so he had to stay. On the other hand, neither Castiel nor Dean wanted to leave him behind inside the bunker without supervision, which caused a small argument to ensue.

Much to Sam’s surprise Gabriel muttered to himself and then cheerfully walked out of the bunker, but he made a deal as before he got into the car; no one could call him Gabriel. They had to call him Luie, or Lo. Dean had just huffed, but then agreed. Sam knew how powerful the trickster had to be as Castiel had had to swallow purgatory in order to defeat the archangel Raphael. He had to assume that Gabriel - _Lo-_ who was the last, free archangel, was the strongest creature out there and no one could make him do anything. So why was he obeying? If he really wanted to stay he could just vanish or fly around the bunker to avoid Castiel.

Gabriel was both displeased and happy with leaving the bunker, but he’d pulled out quite a few feathers just before, so he decided that it was alright. Halfway through the car ride they stopped for a toilet break and the trickster received odd looks from the hunters as he followed inside and then entered one of the stalls. He waited as he sat down, listening as two sets of footsteps walked over to the door and then heard it open and close as he became alone. Gabriel rolled his eyes and pulled out a couple of feathers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean’s voice suddenly asked, both disturbed and worried as the archangel had winced in pain several times and caused Gabriel to almost jump out of his skin. He’d been unaware that the hunter only had given Sam a look before staying inside while his brother left.

“Polishing the torpedo,” the angel answered back, trying to sound cheerful, but he could hear that his voice betrayed him and he groaned from the pain as his wing sent a burning wave of ache throughout him.

“ _As if_ ,” the older Winchester muttered.

“Get out of here, I want alone-time.”

“I trust you about as far as I can throw Sammy, so no can do.”

“Hey, if you won’t give me alone-time now, kiddo, you can forget about ever getting alone-time in the bunker,” Gabriel threatened in a growl, infuriated from the pain in his wing, “and I can promise you that I’ll stay glued to you. No amount of sigils or holy oil will be able to keep me away.” For a few moments there was silence, but then the door opened again and Dean left, allowing Gabriel to continue his self-torture for a few more minutes.

Sam gave the trickster a questioning look as he got out the restroom walking tensely, unaware that the more feathers the archangel pulled out the more painful it got. Gabriel expected him to ask all kinds of nosy enquiries, but to his surprise the human left him alone even though the curious expression stayed.

* * *

They were slightly off schedule when they turned into the long driveway at the Myers’ house, and Gabriel had nagged them about his new name that entire morning, having them repeat it over and over, which meant that there were two slightly grumpy humans that arrived.

The door to the house opened as they got out of the car and Garth greeted them happily from the porch, but then stopped and stared a bit uncertain at the two that he had never met. The reverend Jim Myers and Garth’s wife Bess quickly joined him on the porch and greeted them, only to turn faintly rigid at the sight of the two strangers.

“Garth, meet Cas,” Dean gestured to the angel in a trench coat that gave a small nod and a polite smile, “and Jay-lo.”

“Hey!” Gabriel called out, but then decided that it was better than his real name. He drew a breath and as the wind was in the right direction he could smell the fact that the Myers were werewolves.

“Cas has been on the team for quite some time, but you’ve never actually met,” Dean continued as he walked around the car and made a wave to the archangel, “Jay-lo on the other hand is something we found in a garbage can outside.”

“This _something_ is going to whoop your ass,” Gabriel laughed, deciding to be somewhat pleasant in front of unfamiliar people.

“Oh, I’m sorry, we only expected two guests, but I guess that the lunch will be enough for all of us,” Jim said with a smile, “as you are friends of Dean and Sam you’re welcome into our home.” The reverend went back into the house with the two others and both Dean and Castiel followed, but Gabriel grabbed into Sam’s arm, pulling the giant down and leaned in close so that he would be able to whisper in his ear.

“Why the heck didn’t you tell me we were going to meet a pack of werewolves?” the voice was so quiet that Sam barely could make out the words and had to guess the question.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he answered back.

“I have to disguise my scent,” Gabriel hissed just as quiet and then let go of the hunter. Sam watched as he walked away from the house and then shook his head before following his brother.

“Where’s Jay-lo?” Dean asked the moment Sam entered without the archangel.

“I think he’s a bit car sick. He wanted to breathe a bit of fresh air before he came in,” Sam announced, seeing his brother nod as he knew that he was lying while Castiel tilted his head with silent confusion.

“Okay, whatever damage he causes, you get to clean up,” Dean stated and Sam’s mouth fell open.

“Why me?” he asked in an alarmed voice.

“Because you voted ‘yes’ to him coming and living with us.”

“But what about Cas?”

“Cas’ vote doesn’t count, because Cas is family,” Dean stated with a nod and Sam scowled as he understood; Gabriel was Castiel’s brother.

“Crap,” the younger hunter muttered and went out, only to come face to face with the trickster on the porch.

“Thank you, Gigantor, it’s nice of you to open the door for me,” Gabriel fluttered his eyes, but the hunter only sighed relieved and went back in.

“Found him,” Sam announced and gestured to the archangel that now stood beside him before introducing him as ‘Luie’.

As they got to the kitchen they sat down by a long table, but when Jim tried to place a plate before Castiel the angel stopped him.

“No need to set the table for me, I won’t be eating,” he announced and Jim pulled the plate away before returning it to the cupboard.

“It’s nothing against your cooking. Cassie just doesn’t eat lunch,” Gabriel excused his socially incompetent brother, while silently adding in his head ‘or _anything_ for that matter’.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t take offence even if he thought my cooking was bad. I know that tastes differ greatly between people,” Jim stated and placed two pots on the table before he sat down, “now I thought that we could have lunch and then Garth will show you to the other side of town where I found a burnt area with hoof prints and some enchantment equipment. But for now, let’s eat.”

They all dug into the food and had lighter conversations about what had been going on. After reverend Jim’s wife’s death and his daughter moving in with Garth he’d become alone and gone travelling. He’d crossed paths with confused and troubled people of his kind. He’d continued his travels, allowing a person to tag along. In the end he’d gathered ten people and invited them to come and stay with him as he decided to head home. Two had suspected ulterior motives and gone their own way with an open invitation while three continued on his travels to find others and help them in their life. Jim was a lot happier now that he could help others instead of sitting at home and mourning. The house was a lot livelier and the people he worked with were beginning to find themselves and learn that there was more to life than just fear and survival.

Bess worked in the village and the couple had bought a small house not far from him and owned a small piece of farmland that they were planning on using to grow a bit of food. Garth did odd jobs around the surrounding zone, but mainly worked as a forest ranger in the wildlife area north of the town. Two of the people that reverend Jim had picked up on his travels were also helping Garth by taking over some of his maintenance duties.

“How about you? What have you been up to?” Garth asked with a happy grin, but saw how they hesitated.

“Same old, same old,” Dean stated with a shrug.

“No, come on!” Garth insisted and the Winchesters shared a quiet glance.

“You really want to know? I mean, you’ve left this life behind,” the elder of the brothers stated, but saw how the ex-hunter nodded fervently.

“Well, you know about the Hell Gates opening and that Kevin was translating the Demon tablet,” Dean began and took the last bite from his plate, seeing that only Gabriel was left eating and enjoying his food while Jim was putting on some coffee. “We tried to close them for good and suck the demons into hell like a huge vacuum cleaner. As in; bye-bye demons. Adios forever. Sam would’ve succeeded if I hadn’t fucked it up for him, and Kevin’s dead…”

“No, bless him,” Garth sighed and shook his head. As Dean remembered the painful memories, Sam saw that he wasn’t going to speak anymore so he continued.

“We now know how to turn demons into humans, but it’s exhausting and might kill the person who does it. The priest who managed to turn a demon back never made any more recordings after his success, also human blood is like drugs to demons if injected,” Sam informed, wondering what he should leave out of the conversation and what he could speak about. “Demon activity is down and they aren’t seen as much anymore, but we have it from a source that they are hunting the remaining leviathan instead of messing around with humans.”

“Not only demons and hunters are after the leviathan,” Jim inserted himself into the conversation as he placed a cup in front of Gabriel and held out one to Castiel, but the angel shook his head with a polite ‘no thank you’ so the man placed it beside Dean instead, “everything supernatural that is the least amount informed and organized are chasing them too or keeping their eyes open, but after their leader vanished they’ve gone underground or are pretending to be human.”

“Oh? How do you know?” Sam asked surprised and accepted his cup, suddenly understanding why there were so few hunts to find; the rumor was spreading that they all had a common enemy.

“The leviathan wiped out a lot of creatures when they poisoned the food in quite a few small towns. I was travelling, and you could say that some were howling it to the moon. So many families were in mourning,” Jim stated with a sad smile, pretending to be cryptic as he told the exact truth and turned to get the coffee, sugar and cream.

“We only know of one place; do you know all of the towns?” Sam quickly questioned and received a nod.

“I have a list of towns, but it’s possible that some village with no non-humans was hit. I can show it to you later down in the library,” the reverend offered as he sat down and placed the coffee pot on the table.

“How do you know the demons are after them?” Garth wondered as he poured himself some of the dark liquid.

“Crowley,” Dean muttered, “a dick named Crowley.”

“Who’s he?” the skinny man continued.

“The current King of Hell,” Castiel suddenly stated in a bitter voice, making all of the people by the table stare at him.

“It’s a title he came up with himself,” Gabriel snorted, drawing attention and didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was dousing the coffee in sugar, “but Dean-o over there killed Abaddon, the last Knight of Hell, and his only real competitor. But in a vote between the two I’d chose Crowley any day. I’d rather deal with his scheming plans than Abaddon’s wish for complete chaos and Armageddon, and besides, killing demons is as easy as swatting flies compared to Knights of Hell.”

“True,” Dean muttered, hating the thought of having Abaddon as the ruler of hell, “and that’s about it. We’ve done nothing other than that.”

“That’s not true. You stopped the war amongst the angels and helped return them to heaven after the Fall,” Castiel stated as a matter of fact, unaware that they wanted to keep some things to themselves, “and you stopped the apocalypse, thrice. You returned Lucifer to his cage, sealing Michael inside with him. You reopened purgatory to prevent an explosion that would’ve caused all life on the planet to perish. You returned the leviathan leader to purgatory before everything supernatural passed on and humanity became nothing but fodder.”

For a moment there was complete silence by the table as the pack of werewolves digested what had been said.

“Cassie, you really suck at subtext,” Gabriel sighed and took a content sip from his coffee as the seraph looked at him in confusion, “they didn’t want to reveal anything about the apocalypse. You just burst their happy little bubble.”

“Why? I thought it was a great deed to stop disaster,” Castiel insisted while Garth looked to the uncomfortable Winchesters accusingly.

“Well, first off:  The apocalypse is old news, basically everyone knew that it was happening. And secondly: revealing that angels exist shatters the faith that angels are nice and wants good for humanity,” the oldest of the celestials informed, “the only reason there almost was an apocalypse in the first place was because the angelic war came down to Earth.”

“I… see your point,” Castiel turned to the others by the table, “please forget what I said.”

Dean rubbed his forehead exhaustedly while Sam only glared into the bottom of the cup, swirling the last of the liquid in it as silence spread amongst the people around the table.

“Guys? You averted the apocalypse?” Garth asked stunned and looked between them, “ _when?_ ”

“The first time we vanished for around one and a half years,” Sam carefully looked up, realizing that Garth didn’t know that he was responsible for starting the apocalypse in the first place, “we managed to get Lucifer and Michael into Lucifer’s Cage. I went into the cage with them, but my soul was ripped from my body. Technically, I was both in the Cage and on Earth. I remember both equally strong, but my body was soulless and did things I would never do. The second time we vanished for six months. Dean killed the leviathan leader, Dick Roman, and was dragged to purgatory with him. The first time though, Dean stayed in contact with Bobby and no one noticed.”

“So we’d all be dead if it wasn’t for you?” Bess asked and grasped her husband’s hand. Sam looked back down to the cup, not wanting to tell her that if it wasn’t for him there would’ve been no apocalypse to begin with.

“We were played, like idiots,” Dean stated with a sigh, “we were responsible for it even happening in the first place, so we had to clean up our own mess, and we’re grateful that you let us borrow your houseboat. Sorry about it blowing up.”

“No, thank you,” Garth called out and threw his arms around the older hunter that was sitting beside him, “thank you, both of you, despite not telling me.” The skinny werewolf released the hunter and walked around the table to give Sam an equally enthusiastic hug.

“Don’t think I’m stupid, I can see that you blame yourselves,” Garth said as he got back to his place, “everyone makes mistakes, but then again. You wouldn’t be you unless you took _all_ the blame yourself. I know you both. Hearts of gold, but determined to carry the weight of the world by yourselves.”

“So very true,” Gabriel agreed and raised his cup in a toast to Garth’s statement while Castiel wondered how one could carry the world since the planet was in space and it hadn’t moved other than its intended course around the sun. In space it had no real weight, and the only thing one would be able to do was ‘push’ the planet, so in order to carry Earth one would have to transport it to a larger, solid planet where its weight would increase tremendously and then hold them separated without being crushed. All this impossible for a human being. Impossible for an angel. So he assumed that it was an idiom of some kind.

Castiel didn’t like the fact that Metatron had forced knowledge into his head and more often than not he separated that part of himself from the rest, but as both of the Winchesters were busy speaking with the family he didn’t want to disturb and called for the meaning, agreeing once he knew what it meant.

A lot of hugs were shared once the coffee was done and then Garth brought them to where the reverend had found the burnt vegetation, south of the small town, not even twenty minutes from their home.

They had followed Garth in the Impala along a narrow road into a wildlife area and then headed down an even smaller road made of gravel. Dean was muttering about Baby’s suspension and her underside when the forest to the left of the road opened up, completely burnt and with a stone pillar in the middle of the circular clearing. Garth stopped his white pickup in the middle of the road and got out, making the rest of them follow suit. The hunters cautiously watched the burnt area while the angels looked around.

Castiel headed straight for the stone pillar with a copper bowl on while Gabriel sniffed the air, trying to pick out any scent that wasn’t fitting to the area through the thick smell of ash from the vegetation floor.

“There are tracks from a turning truck, but they were more visible last time I was here,” Garth said as he pointed out how the weight of the lorry had created indentations on the scorched ground, almost invisible from the rain a few days earlier.

“There are hoof prints on a rock here,” Sam stated from his squatting position as he brushed away the slush of ash and dirt from a place beside the road, “it’s almost as if the rock itself melted.”

“We’ve taken pictures of the prints, but were unable to make a good cast of them as they appear to be deformed from when the rock solidified. They were going all over the place, so my guess is that it was some kind of creature that burnt it down. The prints seem to be that of a bipedal creature, so it rules out any four-legged ones, like hellmares.”

“Hellmares?” Dean questioned from the side of the road where he examined the imprints from the truck.

“Yea, horses from hell,” Garth explained.

“Those would’ve created an area full of sulphur,” Castiel declared from where he examined the somewhat empty bowl, growing anxious from the mere mention of the creatures.

“Are you seriously telling me that horses goes to Hell?” Dean asked the dark-haired angel skeptically.

“No, hellmares are bred in Hell the same way hellhounds are, but they are _nothing_ like the hounds. They are creatures of true horror. They consume angels, souls and demons like fodder to multiply. It’s said that they only obey Lucifer, and are locked in their own place in Hell to prevent them from destroying it,” Castiel continued with a scowl remembering the sight of angels who had been bitten by hellmares the day Lucifer was thrown into his cage. They’d had various amounts of grace torn out of them, leaving them broken, bleeding, and screeching in pain as the poison within the hellmares’ mouths slowly caused the angel to disintegrate; it had been horrific.

“Great, just what we need. Crowley with access to them,” Dean muttered, thinking of what terror the hellmares could do on Earth, and turned back to Garth. “What else have you thought of?”

“We think the truck contained the creature that burnt the area, and there were most likely one or two witches driving, but for all we know there could be another car, so we could be dealing with a coven,” Garth explained and went into the clearing, followed by the two brothers while Gabriel quickly bent down and smelled the hoof print in the rock, seeing that the mineral indeed had melted. He kept a watchful eye on the hunters that gathered around the pillar and licked the print, examining the molecules thoroughly. He ignored the humans speaking as he headed for where he could see the imprint of the truck beside the gravel road.

Gabriel crouched beside it as Castiel headed for him and touched the sand on the road where the wheel had pushed down the vegetation.

“What are you doing?” the younger angel asked as he stared down on the archangel that was licking the dirt off his fingers. Gabriel quickly placed his hand on his chin, as if he was thinking, when the humans threw glances their way after hearing Castiel’s question.

“Examine it and tell me what you can gather,” Gabriel challenged lowly and returned his eyes to the track and made Castiel crouch beside him, but unlike Gabriel the seraph placed his hands in the ash and bent down further, letting his nose touch the residue as he inhaled and then licked the ground. Sam gave them an odd look as he saw the action, but decided to make sure that Garth didn’t turn around to see that Castiel was tasting the ground.

“Carbon from the vegetation that was burnt,” Castiel began as he sat back up and his hands left the ground completely clean, but he still brushed them together, “remnants of power that the earth hasn’t absorbed yet; it must’ve been a strong spell. Several insects have passed this area, so have several larger animals. Deer, squirrels, rats, foxes. The rain two days ago has distorted a lot, however.”

“From which direction came the rain?” Gabriel interrupted the list and made the angel’s face frown in thought.

“From the north. I can sense many chemicals that came down with the rain,” Castiel informed after a second and Gabriel gave him a nod to continue, “rubber from the Hevea brasiliensis. Remnants of chemicals I can only assume comes from incinerated gasoline. Blood from a raccoon…” The younger angel looked to the older with confusion as he stopped speaking, aware that he was sensing a lot of different molecules too, but he doubted that the archangel wanted to listen to it all.

“You’re doing well, but missing the point. This is an investigation. Disregard all information that isn’t important. From which direction did the truck come?” Gabriel asked with a smile, observing how Castiel looked down to the track with a frown, examining his memories of everything he could sense.

“I can’t tell,” the angel then confessed with a disappointed shake of his head and returned his gaze to the fellow celestial.

“South. The truck passed through or came from Illinois,” Gabriel whispered secretively with a wink and made a gesture to the surrounding pine trees, “Scots pine, pinus sylvestris. They have not started to pollenate this far north and the tracks contains pollen. But you did point out that the tires are made from natural rubber, which narrows down the search. One point to you and you get the honor of telling the humans that.”

“Why?” Castiel wondered suspiciously.

“Because I said so, and you’re officially the weirdo.”

“I am not… A weirdo.”

“Not for an angel, no. But for a human, yes.”

“I’m not human.”

“No, you are not, but so far the pack doesn’t know that. Your clothes are so ingrained with human smells that they hide you very well.”

“I live in the bunker and goes shopping regularly; of course I smell a lot of human. Why do I need to hide?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just paranoid,” Gabriel stated with a smile and ruffled the younger angel’s hair before heading towards the stone pillar. He listened in as the hunters and the werewolf began to examine the edges of the circle. Gabriel could tell that the pillar had been brought to the place as it was full of ancient magic mixed in with a more recent. He took a bite from the side and threw a glance to the hunters, seeing Dean gawk at him with a horrified look. The trickster gave him a thumbs up and began to chew the rock, examining how it must’ve been created deep in the Earth’s crust and imagined the approximate location of where it would be from. The older Winchester turned away from him, clearly disturbed by his action, but unaware that Gabriel had been near the sight of where the rock was taken, worshipped by the people living there.

“What did you find out?” Castiel’s low, somber voice asked beside him and Gabriel smiled.

“It’s from western South America, most likely from either Bolivia or Peru, but with a slight chance of it coming from northern Chile or north-western Argentina. The rock had to mean a lot if someone bothered bringing it all the way here,” Gabriel chirped and then stood up to look into the sacrificial bowl. He sniffed it quietly and then poured out most of the rainwater that it had gathered. He threw a careful look to the hunters and then extended his tongue into the copper bowl and tasted the remnants of the ingredients. It would take a while to identify individual materials as most of it was burnt, but he might still be able to find some small fragment that had survived.

“Anything from that?” the young angel asked and took a place beside the bowl when Gabriel seemed thoughtful.

“I have to think about it for a while. There are so many different ingredients in sacrifices and spells that you don’t want to get anything wrong.”

“I see,” Castiel murmured and took the bowl in his hands before he licked it.

“Oh come on, man!” Dean yelled at the angels after having seen Castiel lick the bowl, making everyone look towards the two in the middle, only seeing Gabriel standing beside Castiel while the dark-haired angel held the bowl and tilted his head confused. “Oh man…”

“What?” Sam and Garth wondered, but the eldest only shook his head.

“I’m gonna turn the car around,” Dean announced and went to his most precious possession while Gabriel knitted his hands behind his back and whistled theatrically. Once the car was facing towards the exit, Dean turned up the music and waited, but it wasn’t long before Sam and Garth decided that there was nothing more to inspect.

Dean turned the music barely audible as the three in his team joined him in the car.

“Are you two done eating things?” the older Winchester asked aggressively as he turned around to face the two angels.

“Yes,” Castiel answered as Sam turned to him, “we’ve found out that the truck has wheels of natural rubber, passed through Illinois on its way here and that it quite possibly carried with it the stone pillar from the central Andes. Some of the ingredients are salt, shards of metal and something I believe is blood, but I can’t tell from what creature.”

“Dyer’s Knotweed, Persicaria tinctoria, sometimes called Japanese indigo,” Gabriel chimed in with an ingredient he was certain of, “a plant native to Eastern Europe and Asia, usually only used as a dye to make the color blue, but used a lot in sacrifices. The blood is human, probably belonging to the one who’s going to be sacrificed. Some shards of black onyx, sandalwood, and probably burnt orange peel. This is powerful magic.”

“You got all that from nibbling on things?” Dean asked surprised, slightly impressed with what the angels could gather.

“So you licked on more things than the ground?” Sam asked amused as his brother began to drive after Garth as the ex-hunter had turned his truck around.

“Oh man, they licked the ground too?” Dean groaned, shivering slightly; he despised witches who spewed bodily fluids everywhere, and just the thought of licking things a witch had used for spells disturbed him on a level he didn’t want to understand. “That’s just wrong! You two are disgusting…”


	9. Wolves with Hymns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas eats food. Sam can’t sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-10  
> Words: 4 300

It didn’t take long before they reached the home of the reverend and Jim came out to greet them, wondering if they had found out anything more, but was disappointed as the Winchesters decided to keep their guesses to themselves.

“Oh, Dean! Sam!” Garth suddenly got excited and ran up to the two hunters, “I have to show you Father Jim’s secret base!”

“Not really a secret; it’s just an old basement,” the reverend spoke up with an amused smile and then began to walk towards one of the large barns behind the house with Garth motioning them to follow.

They walked past what was a small, overgrown and once decorative pond. Gabriel threw a glance to the stone in the middle of the water and saw old runes; this area was protected from magic. It was the centerpiece of one of Fenris rather clever protective spells for a lair. If it detected any kind of harmful magic it would destroy the caster; no wonder the witch they’d found had burst into flames.

They were brought into the old barn and reverend Jim turned on the light, showing that it was not just a dusty old barn. Old and broken farm equipment hung on the walls. A pickup was parked inside and its engine was placed on a sturdy table next to it. On a workbench small rings of metal were divided into two piles and two kinds of pliers lied beside them. There were pots and tools cleaned and hung on one wall. A few plant boxes with grow lights above and what appeared to be a smelting oven next to an anvil and black smith tools.

“This place it awesome!” Dean commented excitedly, picking a small sword from the wall.

“That’s Mark’s, we sell them on the internet. He even gets designs!” Garth explained, just as enthusiastic as the older Winchester, “Emma makes chainmail; she really enjoys working with fiddly stuff like seeds, miniature sculptures, jewelry, and everything else that is tiny and requires patience. I would’ve gone completely mental! And you’d really like Johnny! He fixes cars! The pickup is his current project. Mark also makes paintings, designs and can paint any car amazingly! Sadly I’m not allowed to repaint my car, since it belongs to the forestry…”

“Where are they?” Sam wondered when the stream of words from Garth stopped and saw how the hunter looked to Castiel and then Gabriel, but the group got two answers at the same time.

“Well, camping,” Garth claimed.

“At the cabin,” Jim said at the same time. The two werewolves looked at each other and got a concerned look from Dean.

“Are they dead or kidnapped?” the older Winchester’s thoughts immediately went for the worst scenario.

“No, they are just shy. Stranger-shy,” Garth smiled a bit, “but please don’t take offence, they mean nothing of it. It’s just that they’ve had it rough and strange hunters haven’t always been the nicest, but if they got to know you, they’d love you guys.”

“Okay, no worries. We get it,” Dean nodded and returned the sword to the wall, neither offended nor angry; he could understand them better than most, even though they were werewolves.

“Great!” Garth called out and got excited again, “we’ve been combing through the books, searching for which creature it could’ve been! I am proud to present!” Garth held out his arms, presenting a dusty table and when he’d gotten the confused stares he wanted he used his foot to push down on a lever beside the wall and pushed away the table an inch, causing a trapdoor to rise from the floor.

“Johnny mechanized it! Isn’t it cool! And the lights are triggered by stepping down!” the skinny werewolf gushed excitedly and jumped down to the first step, making lights come on inside the stairwell. “Come on, gang!”

Jim Myers smiled at his godson’s antics and walked down the stairs, knowing that the hunters would follow.

Gabriel threw a glance to the ceiling, seeing two large demon traps and small reflective objects hanging from the ceiling. He smirked amused as he recognized one of the objects as a silver fork and assumed that the other objects that hung from the ceiling also were of silver. He quickly followed down the steps and closed the hatch after them.

“I’ve been recreating Bobby’s library!” the young werewolf declared in a happy voice and held out a hand towards the large number of binders that were sitting on every available space on all the book shelves that covered the entire basement, making them unable to see how large the place actually was, “when I started hunting, Bobby said that I had to learn how to do my own research and stop calling him for everything, so I thought that I could copy every book he had. I took pictures of everything he had, but he did get more books, so I have far from everything here!”

“Impressive,” Dean nodded surprised by the amount of work that the ex-hunter had done.

“Have you got anything about marks? Or the Mark of Cain?” Sam quickly asked hopefully, but saw how Garth deflated.

“No, sorry, I went through everything when you asked the last time. I’ve also collected and gone through whatever remained of Bobby’s house. It wasn’t much,” the werewolf shrugged sadly and made a gesture to a table on the other side of the stairs, “there’s where we work and what we’ve gathered so far. We think that the missing girl might be a sacrifice of some kind.”

“Yea, that’s what witches do,” Dean agreed and quickly made his way to the table, seeing a list of names of beings, most of whom he’d never heard of.

“The witch that suddenly burst into flames,” Gabriel began with a curious voice and turned to the werewolf with almost white hair, “where was she when it happened?”

“In the barn beside this one,” Jim informed as Garth started to tell the two hunters of what kind of theories they’d been working on and made Gabriel tilt his head.

“Who set up the small stone pond outside?” the archangel questioned, seemingly switching topic.

“My late wife,” the reverend smiled sadly as a painful expression ghosted past his face, “I haven’t cared for it as well as I should’ve.”

“The pond contains the centerpiece for Fenris’ lair protection. The size of the defense works best for a couple of miles. Any hostile magic activates the protection and turns the caster into a barbeque. Only the creatures sleeping within the circle of safety can cast damaging magic spells. That’s why you got yourself some overcooked witch.”

“What?!” Garth gasped as he overheard the short man’s explanation, “we have some sort of protection?”

“Oh?” Jim frowned as he thought about something and then continued, “Joy was always really interested in the Maw of Fenris, and I thought that I had managed to dispel the cult when I took over the local church, but apparently there were a few remaining extremists left. Joy was one of them.” The reverend sighed deeply, “I guess that she was the one who set up that protection.”

* * *

There was one creature that seemed to fit all the circumstances, but they had no idea of how to kill it. They were all sitting in the kitchen while Garth called his old contacts, apologizing over and over again for vanishing without a trace to every person he spoke with, until he finally found someone who knew.

“Garth! My favorite American! What can I do for you?” the man in the phone asked in a voice colored by his Greek accent.

“You’re on speaker, and we need your help-.”

“Sorry, bud, I’m currently regrowing my right leg, so I’m useless in the field for another six months, but I know a couple of friends that would love to come for a visit.”

“Oh, no, that’s not needed, we have enough people, but we need some information. We think that we’re dealing with a cherufe. Young women and girls are being abducted. Marks of hooves together with burnt vegetation and a witch is what we’ve got.”

“You sure it’s not a devil then?”

“A devil?”

“Yea, big, red-skinned, goat’s head, four eyes, large horns, forked tail, hooves for feet. Likes the blood of virgins. It leaves hoof-prints and burnt vegetation. It likes to keep witches as pets and servants.”

“Oh? Well I guess it could be a devil…”

“Devils smell like sulphur,” Gabriel commented with the lollipop in his mouth, “this thing smells like burnt birch.”

“You’re observant, that’s very good. Then it’s not a devil, but I have no idea what burning birch smells like. It could be a cherufe; they’ve got rather large prints. The oldest have circular footprints, younger ones have reptilian footprints with a small circle in the middle. The youngest have what appears to be hooves. The last one I killed was being fed human flesh and blood by a single witch, and was being primed to be released into a large city to create mayhem. Cherufes tend to not be picky with their food, but I guess that it could be a picky one if only young females are abducted.”

“How do we kill it?”

“Just stab it with volcanic glass. I think any volcanic glass works, but I’ve only used obsidian. It’s easy.”

“Really? That’s it? Only stab it?” Sam wondered disbelievingly.

“Basically.”

“Okay, nothing’s that easy. What’s the catch?” Dean questioned and heard the man laugh.

“Clever. You have to get it inside the cherufe. Their skin is made of solid rock, until they go ballistic and their skin cracks to show magma. The magma drops off it and starts fires around it. You have to piss it off enough for the skin to crack, and then you have to get the obsidian deep inside it without bursting into flames. I recommend using trained dogs to distract it. Have them stay out of its hitting range and bark at it. It will piss the cherufe off. To quicken the process, you can doze it in water, but make sure that it doesn’t know where the water comes from, or it will charge at you. We use remote-controlled helicopters to drop water balloons on it. Its skin will crack as it gets pissed off. Call the dogs back a couple of meters when this happens because the cherufe’s range will increase and it will breathe fire. Continue the assault and when it cracks open around the head shoot it with crossbows. Obsidian is too brittle to be used as bullets, and putting it inside bullets and shooting it won’t kill it. We tried the inside-bullets-method, but in the end we had to use a remote-controlled airplane with a large obsidian spear on and crashed it into the cherufe. Then we ran, because that cherufe caused one hell of a forest fire.”

“Thanks, Aleixo, but hey, how’d you lose your leg?” Garth asked.

“Oh, man, I haven’t told you! We went after a hydra. Biggest damn hydra I’ve ever seen. Five full grown heads with one on the way and three tails. I wanted to keep the head with one small horn, a long thick snout full of teeth and ten glowing eyes, but as Geneva was the one to find it and call us she got the first pick, but I can’t complain, I got the head with two eyes, a thin snout with two large teeth and two enormous, curled horns. The skull looks great above my mantelpiece.”

“That’s awesome!” Garth replied excitedly as Dean looked like he’d lost his most prized possession.

“Fuck! Why aren’t we out killing _hydras_?!” the older Winchester questioned, feeling how the mark burnt from excitement; if he had the First Blade, then a hydra would be a great challenge.

“Ey, there are a few hydras left and they are hard to find. I hear about one or two of them being killed every year. It takes a gang of hunters to slay them. I can send the word out, and we’ve got extra beds here if you are interested,” Aleixo offered with a laugh, but Dean’s excitement died down as he remembered that it would require him to cross the Atlantic in an airplane.

“Thanks, but I’m good. _Jealous_ , but good,” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes at the look his brother gave him and sent a glance to the stew that was simmering on the stove; he was getting hungry.

* * *

Sam couldn’t get around the weirdness of seeing Castiel eating during dinner, and it reminded him that Castiel wasn’t technically a human-ish creature; he just used Jimmy’s body as his own, not that Jimmy was still in there. There was no one left to return the body to, so the body was Castiel’s now, but technically Castiel didn’t have a physical body to speak of, maybe an angelic metaphysical body.

Sam watched how the fallen angel slowly lifted the fork to his mouth and then ate the food on it, somewhat struggling to do it in the smooth movement that came from training. Castiel had forgotten how to exactly operate a fork during his return to an angelic being, but Sam assumed that Gabriel was the one to make his younger sibling eat, because Castiel never usually ate anything. At least the Myers didn’t notice it or maybe they ignored it out of sensitivity.

“Bess, this is delicious,” Sam remarked with a smile, making the woman grin back.

“Thank y-,” she began but was interrupted as Garth groaned loudly and placed a hand over his heart.

“Garth?” Sam worriedly asked, aware that it was a week until full moon, while Dean froze, uncertain of how to react; his hunter-instincts told him to grab his gun, but he didn’t want to shoot a friend.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” the skinny man hissed and waved a hand nonchalantly, “just some heartburn.”

“You’ve been a werewolf for more than a month, shouldn’t you recognize the signs of the full moon by now?” Castiel asked casually and looked down to a frustrating piece of potato that he’d been chasing around the plate.

“You told them?” Bess wondered with a concerned frown, eying both of the strangers.

“No,” Dean responded.

“No, we didn’t,” Sam answered at the same time as his brother.

“Gah,” Garth moved his hand from his heart to his throat, “I’m sorry guys, I’ve never had it this soon.”

“Extra stress makes it come on sooner and stronger,” Gabriel stated as he got up and walked around the table, making Bess look at him suspiciously, ready to defend her mate from an unknown hunter.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt him,” the archangel placed his hands on Garth’s shoulders as Bess got up to stare at him, readying herself to attack if the stranger did anything to hurt Garth. Gabriel pinched down on a spot on the werewolf’s shoulders before moving a hand to his neck, massaging a spot there before moving his hands just behind his jaws.

“Okay, trust me for a second here, Garthy-boy,” Gabriel said as he slowly took up the fork, “open your mouth.”

“What?” the werewolf asked, looking at the short man as if he was crazy.

“It will take one second and you will feel better afterwards, now open your mouth.”

Garth hesitated, but then did as he was told, but before he had time to react, Gabriel shoved the handle of the fork into his mouth and bent it down. He felt how something shifted and then took it out of the young creature’s mouth.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Gabriel grinned and placed the fork on the table.

“My god! It’s gone! What did you do?” Garth wondered as Gabriel returned to his seat and Bess sat down, “I feel completely normal again.”

“Pressure points,” the archangel smirked with an air of superiority and sat down, “everyone has them. Those four are specific to your kind of werewolf and calms down the transformation need.” Gabriel grinned at the two werewolves and dug into the food that was left on his plate; it really was enjoyable food.

“How did you know how to do that?” Bess wondered curiously, but before the trickster had time to answer Jim spoke up.

“He’s not human,” the oldest werewolf stated and eyed Gabriel with suspicion, breathing deep calm breaths to get a fix on what Gabriel was, “he’s not like any creature I’ve smelled before. I’m going to guess that he’s a god.”

“A god? A real god?” Garth squeaked and looked to the brothers that just looked slightly annoyed.

“You know,” Gabriel began as he finished his plate, “gods aren’t that rare. It’s just that most of us don’t go around killing humans for food or demanding sacrifices. Many of us have had immortal servants and many lesser gods are just living their life as normally as they can. No one has heard of Acis, a god of a river or Lothurr, a servant of Odin. No one remembers the lesser immortals who were just there to serve the true gods, but they were gods with powers nonetheless.”

“So have we heard of you?” Garth wondered curiously, making the god laugh.

“I believe you have, I’m Loki, father of your god,” Gabriel smirked as the reverend grasped into his silver bullet necklace that held Fenris mark while both Bess and Garth drew a breath.

“Dean! Sam!” Garth called out shamefully, “how could you invite Loki into our house without telling us who he is! We haven’t prepared anything for him! We should have gifts! And food! And baked goods!”

“Geez,” Dean scowled, “he’s got enough of an ego as it is!”

“Indeed,” Gabriel agreed amused and waved the fork, “and I enjoy being treated like an equal every once in a while. Actually living with these hunters is like a fresh breath of air. They know who I am, how powerful I am, but then insists on continuously arguing with me over petty things what we’re going to watch on the TV.”

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes at the archangel, knowing that Gabriel and Dean had a silent agreement over who got to decide the channel; whoever was by the TV first got to choose what to watch first.

“Then the second question is,” Jim began and turned to the angel that finally managed to pin the potato to the fork, “what are you?”

“He’s not human?” Bess wondered and took a deep breath, growing confused as she only sensed human smells around the table, “how can you tell?”

“Is he a god too?” Jim wondered and made Castiel slowly shake his head.

“No, I’m a seraph; an Angel of the Lord,” Castiel stated and then looked away, “but I’m slowly losing my powers. I’m falling. Once my powers are gone I will either die or turn human.”

“Wow, wait!” Dean called out and leaned closer to the angel, “last time you fell you turned human! So you’ll survive this time too!”

“Not for certain, Dean,” Castiel confessed and made the two brothers frown with concern.

“Where are your wings?” Garth wondered curiously and made the angel smile at how similar he thought the young werewolf was to Sam.

“In another dimension to keep you all safe. Angelic wings are part of an angel’s true form, so the mere sight of them would turn you all to dust,” Castiel explained and saw how the werewolf ‘Ooh’ed at the new information.

* * *

After dinner was finished they first went to buy the correct weapons; water balloons, water guns and obsidian for the crossbow. Sam bought a quadcopter with which they could distract the creature with. Garth and Bess created hexbags that caused a person to freeze on contact and Garth had slingshots that they could use to hex the witches.

Once everything was done and prepared they went around the city with the car windows open. Dean and Sam rode up front while Jim, Castiel and Gabriel sat in the back. Jim leaned slightly out the window to sniff the air while Gabriel let the wind just pass him. Garth had headed north with Bess to search the northern parts of the village while the hunters had gone to the south.

Dean had driven around the small community for four hours when they passed by a farm to the south west as the sun was starting to rise and he twitched as his phone began to ring.

“Yeah?” Dean answered, listened for a few seconds and then called out to the occupants in the car, “Garth and Bess found the place! We’ll regroup at Jim’s home.”

Thirty minutes later and they were all standing inside the reverend’s home. On the table Garth had placed a map of the area and drew a circle around an old building.

“Ol’ Brown’s farm?” Jim guessed and Bess nodded. The reverend turned to the elder of the brothers that was leaning over the map, “Mr. Brown died two years ago, and the farm has been abandoned since.”

“Good place to keep their pet lava-monster,” Dean stated and studied the map, “we can use the forest as protection when we approach. If its dense enough then the creature won’t be able to follow us if we have to retreat. We have three hexbags each, so we have to hit the witches before they know we’re there. We don’t know how many they are, but once we get to the farm we’ll regroup. Bess, Jim and Lo; you will stay behind the tree line and if we get in trouble it’ll be your job to save our sorry asses. We’ll attack at night in the cover of darkness, so everyone get some rest.”

* * *

Sam had woken up so many times during the early morning that he felt as though he hadn’t slept at all. He yawned and walked down the stairs, knowing that it was sometime in the early hours, but halfway down he heard the small strumming of guitar strings. Curious, he followed the sound to the living room where he found Gabriel with closed eyes, sunken into the couch, carefully plucking at the strings to not disturb anyone who was sleeping.

“Did I wake you, Gigantor?” the trickster asked without opening his eyes and Sam could only assume that the archangel knew the sound of his steps.

“No, though, where’s Cas?” Sam wondered as he looked around for the angel.

“Outside, naked with the bees,” Gabriel smiled and made the hunter grin amused; a naked Castiel was Dean’s problem to fix.

“It’s a very beautiful song,” the hunter commented and sat down in one of the two armchairs, realizing that Gabriel had grown almost shining, pure white and curved claws where his nails usually were, and used them to play.

“It’s a song to prepare warriors for battle in the spiritual realm. A funeral song,” Gabriel explained with a smile and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

“It sounds too happy to be a funeral song.”

“Death isn’t necessarily a sad thing,” the trickster began explaining while starting the song anew, “not when they were certain that they were going to the great fields of eternal battle, Hjaðningavíg. If they distinguish themselves in the battle the Valkyrie will bring them to Valhalla where they will feast with Odin and meet heroes of old. If they don’t manage to gain the attention of the Valkyrie they are guided to Fólkvangr and Sessrúmnir where Freyja rules. Both alternatives are a great honor. To be honest, I’d chose Freyja any time of the day. Odin might be more powerful and wiser, but Freyja is a far better warrior. She’s got humor like you wouldn’t believe. Wit, humor, song, dance, beauty; she’s got it all. Óðr, is such a lucky man.” (Óðr basically is pronounced “authr”)

“Aw, someone’s in love,” Sam teased with a slight grin.

“Pretty fucking close,” Gabriel agreed with a snort and a mirroring grin, “the first time I offered myself to her was while Óðr was obsessing over something and had been away for months. She felt so lonely, and she kissed my cheek as a thanks. Such soft lips, such a smile as she looked at me and held my face in her hands,” Gabriel sighed, “then she pulled my cheeks, called me ‘adorable menace’ and mushed my face together.”

“That didn’t go as I thought it would,” Sam chuckled at the image he got, somehow certain that the archangel was much shorter than the goddess, “what about the second time?”

“She accepted,” Gabriel grinned proudly.

“No way! What about Óðr?”

“What about him?”

“Did he ever get to know?” Sam wondered, curiously excited over pagan drama which probably took place before his grandfather’s grandfather was even born.

“Oh, yea, of course,” Gabriel smirked and shook his head, “but most pagan deities have a very different relationship to all that stuff than what you as an American has. Óðr didn’t mind and for a while I became, kind of, the second husband of Freyja, but Odin would’ve gotten jealous if it got out, so it was a secret. Also the Viking culture around sex was very different. People slept around, found someone they enjoyed being with, moved in with them at a new place, and most importantly; got a kitten.”

“Oh? A kitten?” Sam frowned and began to realize that he assumed that everyone lived in a culture just like his; it was a ridiculous thing to assume, but he’d done it nevertheless.

“Yep, a kitten. They are _adorable_ and keep pests away. One of my glorious touches of wisdom which I bestowed upon my followers,” Gabriel stated with grandeur, hearing the human chuckle, and continued to gently play the guitar. Not long after, he closed his eyes with a smile as he heard how the hunter began taking deeper breaths.

“Beregida, coredazodizoda, elasa bolape sapah. Oi bolape zomdy beranusaji. Totaire oi he cacrg basgim niis,” Gabriel whispered into the air and kept playing, feeling the agitated soul of the human slowly relax and allowed Sam to finally fall into a deep slumber. The archangel’s lips smiled sadly, knowing that the soul within a human body was trustful of anyone speaking Enochian, even the bad angels.

* * *

Beregida, coredazodizoda, elasa bolape sapah. Oi bolape zomdy beranusaji. Totaire oi he cacrg basgim niis - Sleep, human, you will be safe. I will be your guard. Hear my song until day comes.


	10. The Art of Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inias likes Castiel. Gabriel is toasty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-11  
> Words: 4 000

The group snuck closer to the barn where lights shone and hid behind a small hill in the darkness.

“Bess, Jim and Lo,” Dean stated and made a gesture towards the forest, making the three of them head towards the tree line with their chosen weapons. Sam placed the drone on top of the hill and spotted an incoming truck.

“Dean,” he whispered urgently and pointed to the truck without its lights on and made the older of the two brothers crawl up the hill to watch.

“What is it?” Garth wondered quietly and followed the brothers the second the angel moved to get a better look.

“The truck,” Sam whispered as the vehicle stopped on the gravel road. The sound of the engine died off and they watched how two people exited the driver seat.

“Let me go!” an angry yell was heard and the brothers shared a look when the tall person kicked the child to the ground.

“Shut up!” the witch hissed loudly and picked up the crying girl from the gravel road.

“That’s not Amelia,” Garth growled lowly, guessing that the witches had kidnapped another child.

“Let’s check the truck for that creature first,” Dean suggested and then turned to the young werewolf, “Garth, you’re with me. Sam and Cas can keep an eye out for trouble.”

Sam nodded and lay down in the grass of the hill as the door to the barn opened and the witch went inside with the child. The younger of the Winchesters stared after his brother and watched as the two shadows ran in a crouching position towards the truck.

“Sniff around, see what you can find,” Dean commanded the werewolf as they got to the truck and Garth did as he was told. The ex-hunter took deep breaths and snuck along the gravel, tense of the sounds he was making. There was a strong scent of burnt birch around the truck, but it was a fading scent so Garth shook his head.

“I think it’s empty,” Garth whispered to the hunter, making the human nod.

“Ok, let’s go,” Dean whispered back and headed towards the barn with the hexbag loaded in his slingshot and a gun at his hip. Sam watched from far away how two shadows detached from the truck and made their way towards the barn.

“Come on, Cas, let’s go,” the younger hunter stated and the two headed for the barn, meeting up with Dean and Garth as they reached it. Dean, who had been looking in through a narrow slit in the door, turned to Sam and the angel and held out five fingers, indicating the number of witches. Sam nodded and looked in through another gash in the door, seeing what appeared to be a creature of fire chained by its ankles. One witch was pouring a white substance around the creature and Sam grew uncertain; was that really a cherufe? Weren’t they supposed to be made of stone? But then again, he’d never seen a cherufe before, and there could very well be skin of stone underneath the fire.

All of the witches seemed to be dressed in black clothes. One male and four females. The male witch picked up a large necklace that had a sun as a center stone and headed towards the creature. Two witches were preparing the altar where two children had been tied down and a single witch stood beside a pillar and looked at the text in a book.

Dean crouched down and the three other hunters followed his lead. He drew a quick square in the sand and then pointed to the places the witches were standing before deciding which person was going to take out which witch by pointing to them. As everyone got the plan they nodded and then stood as one. Dean and Garth stood on one side of the door while Sam and Castiel stood on the other.

Dean sent his brother a glance and saw Sam nod as everyone tensed their slingshot. Dean pulled open the door and Sam entered, taking aim on the witch with the spell book before shooting the hexbag. The younger Winchester continued his way inside, keeping along the wall as Castiel entered and took aim on the next witch, freezing her as Garth entered and shot, missing his target by mere fractions.

“Hunters!” the woman who had been pouring the white powder on the floor yelled and dropped her bag before reaching into her pocket. Dean shot his hexbag at her, but she threw a fireball from her pocket at the same time, causing the two magic items to collide in the air and rain down a cascade of sparkling green flames on the dried grass inside the barn.

Sam had by this time reloaded and taken aim at the woman Garth had missed, but she threw herself to the side when he shot at her, only to be shot by Castiel. A blast of fire came from the last witch and everyone dodged by throwing themselves to the floor as she chanted a spell. With an angry scream she finished and the hunters were suddenly falling towards the right wall, crashing into it before falling into a pile on the floor. The hunters scrambled as the witch made a run for them. Dean scowled and pulled out his gun as the witch threw a powder over them. Dean pulled the trigger before falling limb into the floor and the last witch fell down, dead.

A low murmur was heard inside the barn and nothing but the creature of fire moved. The murmur continued and suddenly the witches were all moving again, surrounding the collapsed hunters.

“They killed Cryz,” one of the women stated as she checked for a pulse on her fellow witch, and then examined the bullet wound above the heart.

“The ritual can’t wait. Topaz, get the last of the lines ready,” the woman with the book stated and the others nodded, showing that she was the head of that coven.

Castiel purged the magic from himself and then used his celestial powers to fling the witches to the walls around before standing up and lighting his halo in a show of dominance, only for the creature of fire to make a move.

“Angel of the Lord,” a murmuring voice came from the creature and Castiel’s eyes widened as he was thrown to the wall and secured with magic binds, unable to use his grace to overpower the being. This was _not_ a cherufe.

* * *

Gabriel watched from the forest in boredom; _he_ wanted to play with the witches. Witches were so stuck up and thought so highly of themselves, and so far they’d always been amusing. He saw how the hunters entered the barn, followed by a flash of light, followed by a second, longer flash of light and Gabriel sighed.

“So…” the archangel began and sent a glance to the two werewolves that were worriedly waiting to see what happened next. A gunshot rang out and the two werewolves twitched, “think they need our help?” Neither creature answered him as the door to the barn slowly closed on its own and the place seemed suspiciously quiet.

Grace lit up the barn and Gabriel knew that something was wrong as his younger brother wouldn’t use grace just for the heck of it.

 _‘Archangel Gabriel,_ now _would be a good time._ ’ Dean Winchester’s voice sounded in Gabriel’s head together with all the other thousands of prayers he received and the deity laughed, scaring the werewolves that looked at him like he was crazy. He vanished from their vicinity and was about to teleport inside the barn when a strong forcefield appeared before him.

Whatever was inside that barn was strong, but it wasn’t about to stop an archangel from reaching his brother and his friends in need. On the inside, Gabriel was saddened by the fact that he couldn’t use his pagan powers to play, but he could always state that Castiel was the one who used celestial powers. Instead of sneaking around and finding a weak spot in the barrier Gabriel decided to just force it and make whoever was bringing the barrier up shit themselves.

“Something’s coming,” the creature murmured and the witches prepared themselves as they watched the entrance, hearing the magic surrounding them crackle like thunder. The head of the coven chanted the barrier, but then screamed as blood started to stream from her eyes.

“Did someone bring a knife to a gunfight?” Gabriel asked with a cheery voice as he appeared in front of the door and let his mind expand to take everything in. Castiel was unharmed but strapped down by the magic of the creature. A creature that certainly wasn’t a cherufe; it was however disguising as one. The hunters and the werewolf were unharmed in a somewhat neat pile.

Gabriel narrowly avoided getting put on fire and then smirked at the male witch before snapping his fingers and blowing him up, causing the rest of the witches to freeze up as they were showered in the blood of a friend. The archangel wasted no time on them as he had spied a new item for his collection.

“Ooh,” Gabriel had teleported to the book and pulled it out of the blind witch’s hands before exchanging it with a fake replica and then started ripping pages from it and throwing them in the air. Madly laughing he tore the pages, trying to entice the creature to reveal what it was before he killed it.

“Stop him!” the head of the coven yelled as she heard what the crazy man was doing to her beloved book. The cherufe started to murmur and Gabriel sent it a sharp grin; cherufes don’t have the intellectual capacity to talk. Gabriel blocked a fireball from one of the witches with the fake book and dropped it.

“Ops! My bad!” he grinned and dodged a hexbag thrown at him.

“Do something!” one of the witches angrily yelled and all the flames died away from the creature. Its skin cracked and pulverized into dust, revealing a humanoid creature with red skin.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he felt something catch around his wrist; the blinded witch had him chained to the floor. The murmuring from the creature stopped and Gabriel looked up only to realize what kind of spell it was murmuring as its eyes glowed with the white power of souls. Too late he realized how all the pieces of the puzzle fitted together. Witches, an _efreet_ and young souls. Fuck.

The efreet breathed out black fire and Gabriel tore through the chain as he tried to fly to the ceiling above the black fire, but a new chain on his wrist stopped him. His eyes widened at the fact that the chain was in the wrong dimension. The only thing he had time to do before he was swallowed by one of Lucifer’s most powerful weapons was to wrap himself in his wings in an effort to protect himself.

It was no use. This was real hellfire. That efreet had to have devoured many souls in order to produce it. Gabriel was doomed. He did what he could and shielded himself with grace, feeling the ravenous fire devour his protection bit by bit. The pain flashed through him and he made himself as small as he could. Mikael had controlled it when he and Lucifer fought. How? How did he control something so vile? Gabriel called out to the fire that enveloped it, trying to control it the way he would’ve with normal fire, but it didn’t react. He tried to force it, using all of his will to control it. What did it listen to?

Castiel saw the hellfire envelop his brother, the angel that he placed all of his faith in, the person that was going to rule heaven and cried out in grief; this wasn’t how things were going to go! He struggled against his bonds. Castiel had seen hellfire before, seen the damage it does to angels and tried to help heal injured seraphs a long time ago. The efreet grinned, drunk from the power of the souls, and saw that the hunters were beginning to twitch, an indication that the powder was wearing off.

Gabriel wanted to weep for having been stupid enough to get caught. He didn’t want to die again. Things like that hurt. That’s when he heard it. A quiet whisper in his mind. The egg.

‘ _Archangel Gabriel, I pray to you. It’s Anna. It’s time. It’s happening now. Get your feathery ass down here, now._ ’

He yelled in pain and frustration, causing everyone to shield their ears for protection from the true voice of an angel. The ground shook as Gabriel summoned all of his celestial powers. If he died now; what the hell would happen to the egg? Then it struck him. Lucifer burnt coldly from a callous determination. Gabriel flared his wings and commanded the fire to destroy him.

Castiel watched as the hellfire parted and formed two enormous black wings, revealing a relatively unharmed archangel. Gabriel’s halo was covered in slick black flames and his eyes had turned completely dark. The archangel was a perfect copy of what Lucifer had looked like when he controlled the fire and Castiel felt a horrified shiver run through his body.

“Here’s a little story about an efreet and a few witches. They died. The end,” Gabriel smiled cruelly as he got up from the ground and snickered at how disturbed the efreet seemed to be of him. It knew that nothing could control hellfire. In a burst of black flames, he flew from witch to witch, seemingly there in an instant, draining the hellfire from his wings and into the humans’ bodies, commanding the fire to destroy and it happily obliged him.

Gabriel flew to the efreet, landing hard with his feet on the creature’s chest and making them fall, but before they’d even reached the ground Gabriel had turned some of his feathers’ sharp and impaled the efreet with his wings, slicing the creature almost in pieces before commanding the fire to destroy the body. The efreet was dead before he hit the ground and Castiel was released from his magic binds. He collapsed on his knees from having overexerted himself but as he looked up he came face to face with two pure black eyes.

“I was never here. The efreet tried to control hellfire. He failed. You killed the witches,” Gabriel growled loudly enough for the hunters to hear and Castiel nodded. In complete shock the younger angel froze as lips were placed over his. In his gasp, he felt how a soul entered his mouth, followed by four others and relaxed as he understood what Gabriel was doing.

‘ _Archangel Gabriel, you little piece of shit! You said you were going to show up! Where the fuck are you?!_ ’

“My oath just started,” with those last words and the sound of roaring fire Gabriel was gone.

“Why the lie?” Garth wondered with a drawling voice as Castiel felt the power of the souls fill him and looked skywards to listen in on his brethren signaling that hellfire had been used.

“Because angels are going to show up to investigate in a few minutes. Hellfire isn’t something earthlings should ever play with,” Castiel stated, seeing that Sam was staring at him with wide eyes and opened the door to the barn.

“Everything’s fine!” he called out to the werewolves that were waiting in the forest and saw how they came running, too fast for a human.

“Everything’s okay,” Castiel stated to his siblings and calmly explained to the angels what had happened, “the hellfire was an efreet powered by souls. The witches have been slain and the efreet succumbed to the hellfire. I have the souls now. Send a wheel or reaper to come get them.”

The sound of wings rang out in the barn and two angels showed up. They both scowled at the stench of true hellfire and looked around, seeing the humans and a werewolf get up from the ground. Sam immediately headed for the bound and gagged children to take care of them.

“Mihr, Elyon,” Castiel nodded to them and leaned his head back, letting two of the restless, injured souls go, “take them to heaven.”

The angels nodded and made a move, catching the whirling souls in the air as they returned. As the two reapers returned safe to heaven Diniel and Inias flew down, landing just as the door opened and the two werewolves entered.

Castiel let another soul go and nodded to Diniel before turning to Inias with a smile.

“Inias, can I request something from you?”

“Everything, Castiel,” the angel smiled happily, gazing at the falling angel with affection.

“Could you heal my friends and fly us all to a house close by,” Castiel blushed slightly at the request, ashamed what he was unable to fly himself.

“No way!” Dean called out and glared at the strange angel, “I’m not flying with any fucking angels and I’m certainly not leaving Baby in the middle of nowhere.”

“I won’t force anyone to go with me,” Inias smiled at the human that he’d met once before.

“We also need to get Elizabeth and Amelia here back to their families,” Sam chimed in and held one crying girl in his arms as the other clasped hard into his leg.

“You can take my car back into town,” Garth offered and sent the younger Winchester a begging glance, “I wanna go with the angel.”

“Sure, car keys?” Sam smirked and saw how the young werewolf lit up with happiness.

“In the ignition,” Garth commented with a grin and turned to the angel, “hi! I’m Garth!”

“Are you injured in any way?” Inias tilted his head as he asked the question; he was one of the angels fond of humans, but this creature wasn’t human. It made him curious.

“Just a few scratches,” Garth confessed and examined his arms, “and probably a few bruises, so I don’t need any healing.”

‘ _Any more souls?_ ’ Castiel listened in to the angel’s voice, realizing that Dumah had spoken for the first time in centuries.

‘ _Yes,’_ the falling angel responded and was surprised when the least active and most boring angel in heaven showed up.

“Dumah,” Castiel greeted the angel that just tilted his head. He released another soul and then heard how the quiet angel beat his wings, catching the soul in flight before leaving.

‘ _One soul left,’_ Castiel sent out and Mihr returned to pick it up.

“You did good to defeat the efreet powered by this many souls,” Mihr bowed her head in admiration and then caught the soul that Castiel released.

Castiel blushed as word got around in heaven that he had defeated a creature that was strong enough to use hellfire, but he kept quiet as Inias flew them to the home of the reverend together with the werewolves.

 _‘I shall make sure that there is no evidence left of the battle,_ ’ Elyon stated through the ether as he landed once more inside the barn and watched as the two archangel vessels walked out carrying a child each.

“It’ll be okay. We’re going to get you to your family,” Sam said as he carried the sniffling child and followed his quiet brother to the car. A bright light made them turn around and watched as the barn disintegrated into nonexistence. There was a heavy silence between them as they wanted to speak to each other about what had happened, but for the sake of the children they kept quiet about that topic.

“So, Elizabeth, what’s your parents’ name?” Dean wondered as they reached the cars and opened the trunk on the impala.

“Mom’s name is Helen,” she began quietly as the older hunter pulled out two IDs out of a bag and then handed one to his brother.

“And dad’s name is William,” Elizabeth choked a bit on her tongue and yawned tiredly, not questioning who it was that had saved her.

“Momma, Poppa,” the four-year-old Amelia sniffled in Dean’s arms and then man softened.

“We’ll get you home. You’re safe now,” the older of the brother’s whispered calmly and got into the impala.

“How old are you?” Sam wondered as he got into Garth’s car and placed the child on the driver seat beside himself, before looking to a badge that they rarely used; Homeland Security.

“Six.”

“What happened? How were you taken?”

“We had a birthday sleepover as Maddy’s place, but I got sick. Dad works night, and mom hates it when I wake her so I decided to walk home. It’s not far,” the girl yawned as Sam turned on the vehicle and drove out from the hidden road, “it’s further to school, but then that mean lady talked to me and told me that she would drive me home, so I followed her. It was outside the gas station.”

“Okay, I see…” Sam stated and watched as the girl leaned back and almost immediately fell asleep. They had been driving for five minutes when Sam’s phone rang and he picked it up, seeing that it was his brother.

“Dude, the police just alerted to keep a look out for an Elizabeth Smith, missing autistic kid. Vanished mysteriously from a birthday party just after the children went to sleep,” Dean’s hushed voice stated and Sam could only assume that Amelia was sleeping in the front seat just like Elizabeth.

“The witch just grabbed her on an impulse outside a gas station,” Sam stated lowly and then remembered that he was in Garth’s car, “once we get closer to the station let’s only go in the impala. I get a feeling that Garth would appreciate some discreetness so close to the full moon. We can’t have the police question him where Homeland got a hold of his car.”

“True,” Dean muttered and rolled his eyes at the fact that the werewolf had wanted to fly with an angel.

Just before they got into the center, Dean pulled to the side and Sam got out of the car with the girl on the empty street and then got into the backseat of the impala with the still sleeping child. After a few minutes of driving the police station got into sight and the older Winchester grinned.

“Follow my lead,” he said as he drove up on the curb and stopped by the stone stairs. The station seemed almost empty if it wasn’t for the lights in the windows.

Dean got out and pulled the girl with him. Together they went inside the station and a desk clerk stood up in shock as he recognized the children. He pulled up the phone and dialed a few digits.

“The children are here! Both Amelia and Elizabeth!” he stated into the phone and then hung up as a man came running through an adjourning corridor.

“Where’s the chief?” Dean demanded to know in an authoritarian voice and the clerk only turned towards the corridor where the man was followed by a man and a woman.

“Eliz!” the woman called out and ran by the men as she saw the girl in Sam’s arms.

“Mom?” the tired child wondered and looked to the voice.

“Sweetie, how are you?” the woman wondered as she took the child from Sam’s arms and crouched down when she began to struggle.

“Tired,” Elizabeth answered and yawned, not caring that her parents were seemingly worried.

“And who are you two?!” the police chief asked as he reached the group while the father crouched down to speak with his daughter.

“Agent Sinclair, Homeland Security,” Dean flipped open his badge, expertly holding the sleeping child on one arm.

“Agent Jefferson, also with Homeland,” Sam stated and showed off his own badge.

“Homeland Security?” the chief wondered flabbergasted, “what the hell is Homeland doing here?”

“That’s classified information,” Dean detailed and then handed over the child, “the perpetrators have been dealt with.” The chief took the child in his arms and then gaped as the two agents turned around and left.

Dean kept a serious face as they got into the car and until they passed around the corner before he broke down laughing. The brothers high-fived and then snickered at how simple things were when you have the right badge.


	11. Ready or Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel sucks at landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-12  
> Words: 3 900

Anna laughed and happily served herself a second portion of curry. She was currently at her late husband’s small family gathering. There were Anna’s two adult children, Joanne and Susan, their grandparents, Kenneth and Dianne, and Kenneth’s brother Gregory and his wife Rebecca.

“Mom, are you sure you’re not pregnant?” Susan, the oldest of the sisters, wondered quietly for the second time as Anna began eating her second portion like a starved predator.

“Yea, I’m sure,” Anna smiled and joked, “I’m just fat and continuing to eat like a horse. Don’t worry about me.”

“You were missing for six months,” Susan hissed back at her to not disturb the peace by the table, “I’m going to worry for the rest of my life!”

“I’m sorry,” Anna stroke her daughter’s back when she felt how her water broke, meaning that the egg was going to be born _now_ after only four months.

“Mom?” Susan stared at the frozen woman.

“My water just broke,” Anna declared and everyone turned to her.

“You _are_ pregnant?” Dianne questioned, knowing fully well that Anna was, but was lying about it for some reason and Dianne was not a prying woman, “wait here and I’ll call for an ambulance.”

“No!” Anna shouted horrified as she felt the first real contractions, “no hospitals!”

As the contraction ended, Anna clasped her hands.

“Archangel Gabriel, I pray to you. It’s Anna. It’s time. It’s happening now. Get your feathery ass down here, _now_.”

“Anna, that’s blasphemy,” Kenneth exclaimed disturbed.

“No, it’s okay,” Anna stated with a grin, but was interrupted by a second contraction. “Oh God, it’s happening too fast.”

“We really should get you to the hospital,” Dianne said from beside her and made the woman realize that she hadn’t even seen Dianne move.

“No, no hospital,” Anna insisted with a firm shake of her head, “you were a nurse. You must’ve taken care of home births before!” The woman cried out as another contraction rocketed her body.

“Three, but the contractions aren’t supposed to come on this quickly. You can rip,” Dianne warned and Anna nodded, worried that she was going to die from the birth, but knew that she couldn’t go to the hospital.

“ _No hospital,”_ she stated again, remembering that if Gabriel could get there then he could heal her if something went wrong.

“Okay then,” Dianne nodded, “let’s get you to your room and have you give birth there.”

Dianne and Susan helped Anna up from the chair and escorted her out of the kitchen, but they had barely gotten to the hallway before another hard contraction made Anna’s legs collapse underneath her.

“Archangel Gabriel, _you little piece of shit!_ You said you were going to show up! Where the fuck are you?!” Anna yelled out, making everyone give each other a concerned look. The contraction ended and the two women started to help Anna up the stairs, when a loud crash was heard from the kitchen. Black smoke slowly rose up from the floor and a person coughed from inside it. Joanne screamed from the shock and Anna grinned excitedly, hoping it was the angel.

“Ow, wow, I haven’t crashed like that since I was little,” Gabriel’s voice stated as the smoke dispersed, showing the short angel get up from the floor with torn and burnt clothes, looking more disheveled than he’d ever been, “what’d I miss?”

“Gabriel?!” Anna stated shocked, seeing the bruised and battered archangel, “what the hell happened to you?”

Gabriel looked down to himself, realizing what was wrong and snapped his fingers, fixing both himself and the floor.

“I had a slight disagreement with the ground, nothing to worry about,” Gabriel grinned through his lie, not wanting to put any more pressure or worry on the pregnant human. He kept his wings behind himself, hearing them sizzle from the disappearing hellfire. He could feel them ache as though someone was carving at them with a blade and he didn’t even want to look at them.

“Angel? Gabriel?” Kenneth did the cross symbol over his chest and stared just as shocked as everyone else at the man who had just appeared out of nowhere.

“Pregnant woman, focus of what’s important,” Gabriel smiled at the crowd and clapped his hands together, watching how the two women started to half-carry Anna get up the stairs and then followed.

* * *

“Is there anything you need me to do?” Gabriel wondered carefully as he stood in the doorway watching how the women put Anna to bed, knowing that Anna wouldn’t want him running around like a headless chicken.

“Is there anything you can give me against the pain?” the dark-haired woman panted as Dianne began to pull down her pants.

“I’m sorry, I can’t use any grace on or around you, for the safety of the egg,” the archangel answered and saw how the human nodded.

“Egg?!” Susan wondered disturbed and looked to the belly as Dianne professionally removed the pants.

“Get me towels,” Dianna said to the 25-year-old and Susan vanished out the door.

“Hold my hand,” Anna requested and held out a hand towards him.

“I can do that,” Gabriel smiled and entered the room, but not even halfway there he sensed that something was wrong. Anna’s eyes turned a glowing white and Gabriel only had time to brace for impact before he was thrown out of the door and through the wall, into the opposite room.

“Rita ol, aaan Gabriel! (Forgive me, Angel Gabriel!)” Anna called out as she realized what she’d accidently done.

“No worries!” Gabriel yelled back and got up from the floor, giving the woman a thumbs up through the hole in the wall before walking out of the room, seeing the others downstairs stare in shock and terror at what had happened. The archangel placed his hand on the wall, slowly rebuilding it before approaching the door opening.

“Gil ge adagita quasaba elasa, (we want not to destroy you),” Anna quickly explained making the angel nod.

“I know sweetie. Don’t worry about it, it’s just remnants of Ophaniel’s grace protecting the egg from any angel it sees as a threat,” Gabriel carefully entered the room, holding his invisible wings low as Anna worriedly watched him. Dianna stood in the corner as he reached the point he’d gotten to before and fell to his knees while spreading his vulnerable wings along the floor in front of him; showing submission to what little grace the human still had left.

Anna’s eyes glowed white and the grace stared at him for a few moments; judging whether he was allowed closer or not. Gabriel responded with letting his grace stream through his halo, creating a light around his head, showing exactly how strong he was before bowing his head, letting it see all his intricate halo-patterns. The grace had no real intelligence, but it now knew that the archangel would be able to approach it whether it liked it or not, but instead of killing it he had graciously submitted to it; honoring it with the respect to choose if he was allowed to approach or not.

“Akarinu, (praiseworthy),” the grace whispered to him and bowed the human’s head in admiration before retreating back into the depths. Gabriel smiled and got up from the floor, prideful of the fact that he’d convinced a mindless fraction of grace to let him approach.

“May I?” He asked as he stood beside the bed, holding her hand in his left and reached out with his right towards the bulge. Anna nodded and he carefully placed his hand on top of her stomach, feeling the angelic grace within the egg. He relaxed, sensing that the little ball of grace was perfectly fine, and smiled gently as he remembered how he and his brothers had played with the newly hatched baby angels. He felt his eyes burn as the image of him and Lucifer cuddling together in a nest with eight eggs to keep them warm and healthy, but with sadness he realized that this time he would be completely alone in a fake nest on Earth.

Gabriel stayed inside the room, ignoring his aching wings to the best of his abilities. Anna began having contractions closer together and then wanted him out.

“Out, Gabriel,” she said as she huffed through the pain and dropped Gabriel’s hand. The angel only stared at her for a moment, “get out.”

“I’ll be close by if you need me,” he stated and then headed towards the door.

“Out and close the door!” Anna yelled, making the archangel take a few running steps out and quickly closed the door, hearing a loud crash of something glass against the wall inside the room.

* * *

Gabriel walked down the stairs, finding the rest of the family tensely sitting around the table with tea and coffee and listening for any sound.

“You must be a priest,” the trickster commented as he saw the oldest of the men standing by a small, cross on the wall and praying to it in Latin. The man interrupted the prayer and stared shocked at the angel.

“No, but I was until a few years ago. The name’s Kenneth Jones, are you really the Archangel Gabriel?” the once priest wondered in awe.

“Yes, Father Jones, I am Archangel Gabriel,” the trickster answered and made grace shine out his eyes, as to prove that he wasn’t human.

“And my daughter-in-law knows you personally?”

“No, not personally. We’ve only met once before. The egg she’s carrying belongs to Saaiz and Ophaniel, two angels who now are dead. It will be entrusted to me once it’s born. Father, do you have a tub?”

“Yes?” Kenneth stated a bit shocked by the sudden change in topic.

“Where is it?”

“In the bathroom, by the hallway.”

“Great, show me,” Gabriel smiled even though he’d rather sit on the floor and rock back and forth as he felt sorry for himself. He let the priest pass and then followed.

Gabriel sent a glance around the bathroom, not really content with the size of the tub. For a moment he listened to the chatter of his family before he snapped his fingers, turning the tub into a large Jacuzzi

“Anything else?” the man wondered as he watched an angel begin to tap up water in the tub.

“Yes, Father, do you know the prayer to bless water in Latin?” Gabriel turned to the nervous human.

“Of course.”

“Good, I need you to bless this water,” he informed in an authoritarian voice and gave the man a bag of salt. “Holy salt for the blessing.”

The angel turned back to the tub and used his celestial powers to create several silver crosses and let them fall into the water before he pulled out a bag with black dust and then had to wait for the tub to fill up halfway. With a wave of his hand he turned the tap off and then made a nod towards the man to start the blessing. He listened to the man speak while sprinkling the water with the salt. His wings ached with pain and the blessing had never appeared that long before, but now it took an eternity.

The priest took a step back and watched as Gabriel opened the small bag of ash. He poured some into his hand and imbued it with grace, making it glow in white before unceremoniously throwing it into the water. The water got a light glow and Gabriel pulled off his jacket and his shirt before he sat down on the edge. He pulled his burnt wings into their dimension, knowing that they now were harmless to humans. He made a small grimace as he saw that he’d lost every single feather on them; he needed those damn feathers.

“Oh God,” the priest gasped, realizing what the appendages were, “what happened?”

“To my wings?” Gabriel sneered and dipped what was left of the charred wing into the water, hearing it fizzle as it touched the liquid, “they were dosed in hellfire.”

“You were fighting Lucifer?” the priest asked and then froze as Gabriel’s eyes turned to him, “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay, ask anything you want,” the archangel smiled and felt how the ache was drained away from his wing, “but no. Lucifer is in his cage.”

“But what could possibly damage an angel?”

“A lot of things, but this was the work of five witches and an efreet, a special kind of jinn. He was masking himself as a cherufe, so my friends had the wrong weapons. They were captured and I went to save them. I could’ve used holy light to smite them all, but that would’ve affected my friends too. Witches and efreets can make strategic relationships, you see, and this efreet had been devouring lots of souls. The witches bring sacrifices to the jinn, making the jinn powerful and the jinn gives them some of his power. And so does the circle of everlasting grief go. It’s not a common practice, because the witches can actually capture the efreet instead and enslave it to their will. Easier, faster, and gives the witches power. I didn’t want Anna to worry, so I said nothing to her.”

Gabriel sighed, trying to conduct himself with some dignity, but not his patience had been worn down by the pain, so he abruptly let his entire body fall into the tub, wings first. He closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing as the pain was numbed completely, but it would only be temporary. As he opened his eyes he was faced with Father Jones’ curious expression, making Gabriel smirk amused; curious humans were kind of cute.

Kenneth Jones stared at the angel for a while, seeing no bubbles come from his mouth or nose, nor did he seem to draw in water to breathe. The priest’s mouth went dry as the angel contently rested in the tub and stared back at him.

“I’ll-,” the man pointed to the door, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me for anything.”

Gabriel nodded and the priest gave him a last curious look before hurrying out and into the kitchen, where the rest of the humans approached him and asked him about the angel.

* * *

Gabriel lay in the tub, slowly healing his wings and listened in as the woman gave birth to the egg. His heart was beating hard in his chest as he listened to the strain in her vocal chords. An angel egg to a human was large and he quietly sat up in the tub, worried that the woman was going to die. He hesitated and then lay down again, feeling stupid for worrying when he had injured wings to heal.

Half an hour later, Gabriel sighed and got up. The pain was now only a dull ache from his wings and he quickly pulled them inside his vessel, hissing from the pain and then straightened his back. He walked out of the bathroom, clothed and completely dry and walked into the kitchen, observing the humans tense up at his vicinity. Gabriel pulled out a chair by the table and sat down. No one looked at him or acknowledged him. The humans were clearly uncomfortable with his presence.

“So, who around this table is the biggest sinner?” Gabriel wondered with a serious face, barely holding himself from laughter as the humans swallowed and looked away. For a moment he reached out with his mind and connected to the young woman sitting opposite to him.

“Oh, Joanne,” Gabriel laughed heartedly as he read what she was worrying that he’d find out, “that’s cute! You humans.”

“What?!” Joanne stated horrified and realized what had to be going on.

“I can read your thoughts, yes,” Gabriel confessed and then pointed to himself, “and the answer to the question is _me_.” Seeing that the humans seemed confused he elaborated. “I’m the biggest sinner around this table.”

“Also sins aren’t really the things you are worried about,” the archangel continued and hummed, “killing someone is, torturing someone is, abusing, you know, horrible stuff are sins.”

“But what about the things mentioned in the bible; lying, idols, adultery, stealing?” the old pastor questioned surprised.

“Well, none of those are true sins that will color your soul or destine you for hell. It’s kind of douchey to steal or cheat on your spouse, but it’s not ‘going to hell’-worthy,” Gabriel explained and looked up the stairs as he heard the woman yell. A few seconds passed by and then he heard it.

 _‘Archangel Gabriel, it’s done… It’s fucking done… Amen,’_ came a prayer from above and Gabriel immediately got up and rushed to the second floor. He stopped by the door and knocked before opening it a notch.

“Can I come in?” he wondered and excitedly listened in as steps approached the door.

“Of course,” Dianne stated and opened it for him allowing him to see that almost black egg in the woman’s arms while the placenta was lying on a towel. Gabriel smiled as he saw the egg the size of a small watermelon and knew that it had been given slightly too little grace. It should’ve been a slightly bluer color.

Gabriel carefully neared the woman and the egg, moving slowly in case Ophaniel’s grace was going to react to him again, but it didn’t.

“You did good,” Gabriel murmured as he placed a hand on Anna’s shoulder and let a gentle stream of grace enter her body to give her her strength back.

“Thank you, and I know,” Anna smirked up at the angel and caressed the egg, “this thing wasn’t easy to push out.”

“I can imagine,” Gabriel smiled and placed a hand on the egg, it was such a fragile little thing compared to himself. The shell was hard by human standard as a drop from a high altitude wouldn’t destroy it, but any angel could easily crush it with the use of grace. Gabriel let a small amount of grace leak through his hand, causing his palm to glow and then sensed how the egg absorbed it, turning slightly glowing as it did. Dianne gasped as she watched and placed her hands over her mouth to not disturb.

“What happens now?” Anna questioned with a concerned expression and turned to the archangel.

“I take the egg and go into hiding, because I’ll grow weak from the egg absorbing my grace,” Gabriel stated and then remembered that he’d always fallen asleep the moment he carried something so he continued, “the moment I take this egg and start to carry it I’ll most likely fall asleep. Can I stay here until I wake up? Sadly I can’t make it to my safe haven first, because this egg needs a lot of grace now. Ophaniel either calculated it wrongly or had nothing more to give.”

“Then take it!” Anna insisted and gently cradled the egg towards the archangel who took it with steady hands. Gabriel felt how excitement coiled in his chest.

He’d carried eggs before. A horse, a wolf, a human and a snake. The horse, however, he hadn’t been able to carry for long, but it had later hatched as an eight-legged horse, sadly no more intelligent than an ordinary horse so he’d named him Sleipnir and gave him to Odin. It was different with the wolf, human and snake. He’d carried them longer in his pouch, turned them more angelic and more intelligent. He missed his children from time to time, but they were hopefully fine wherever they were. He should visit them.

Gabriel smiled down at the egg that he held towards his chest and felt his grace react to it.

“Close your eyes,” the archangel commanded and the humans did as he’d told them. As both Dianne and Anna held their eyes closed he gently pushed the egg inside his pouch and swallowed thickly as he felt full and content. The egg was warm and his grace surged around it, eager to feed it and he let a gentle trickle of grace close in on the egg to allow it to feed.

“Now you can open them again,” Gabriel stated and chuckled as the egg tickled him when it gulped up his grace. The more he fed it the more it devoured and Gabriel grinned happily at the woman in bed as his grace began to purr. “I can feel it nursing.”

“What?” Dianne stared shocked at the angel, “can male angels nurse?”

“We’re not humans,” Gabriel grinned back at the old woman, “all angels have what you could call egg-pouches, kind of like a kangaroo but for eggs.”

“Oh?” the woman nodded shocked and Anna grinned up at the angel.

“Where’s the pouch?” she wondered curiously and let her eyes move quickly over Gabriel’s body.

“In our chest,” the archangel stated and took Anna’s hand and placed it on the middle of his chest, letting her feel how he vibrated.

“Are you purring? Like a cat?” Anna wondered shocked and Gabriel laughed.

“Yes, I’m a happy angel,” he stated with a yawn and felt how his conscious was doused in warmth.

“A sleepy angel,” Anna joked and made Gabriel nod; he truly was tired. Sleepiness hit him like a ton of bricks and his head fell.

“Very tired,” Gabriel agreed and Dianne walked to his side.

“We have a second guest room just two doors down. You can stay there,” Dianne offered and Gabriel nodded before he was led out the room, into the corridor and into a new room. Dianne quickly peeled off the cover and then gently helped tuck in the sleepy angel. Gabriel barely had time to turn to his side before unconsciousness gripped his mind.

* * *

“Where’s Loki?” Garth wondered as the two hunters got out of the cars at the reverend’s home.

“Probably back at the bunker,” Dean shrugged and Sam sent him a glance.

“Well, he did say that his oath began,” Sam chimed in as they wandered up the stairs, “and during his oath he’s going to hide in our bunker.”

“What’s he going to do?” Garth wondered as the hunters entered the hallway.

“We don’t know,” the younger of the brothers confessed and caught sight of the angel.

“Hey, Cas, do you know where Lo went?” Dean called out as he kicked off his shoes and went inside.

“No, I just know that his oath began,” the angel stated and thought back to the Gabriel with black eyes and black halo.

“That black fire,” Sam began as he carefully watched the seraph, “you seemed to panic when you saw Lo covered in it.”

“I did not believe he would survive,” Castiel began and looked to the ceiling, “hellfire destroys everything it touches. Everything but Lucifer. He is the only one that I’ve ever seen control hellfire the way Loki did today.”

“So what’s the plan now?” Dean wondered and stretched with a yawn, “sleep til’ morning and then head home so Johnny and company can come home?”

“I really wished that you could stay longer,” Garth asserted.

“We appreciate it, and remember that you can always call us if you need anything,” Dean smiled and patted the gangly werewolf’s shoulder, only to be wrapped in a hug, “okay, Garth, that’s enough.”

Dean, Sam and Castiel left early in the morning after Dean had forced the angel to dress himself in clothes again. Castiel liked the bees and he liked using his grace to feed them.

Much to their surprise, Gabriel was not in the bunker when they arrived home a day later, nor did he show up the day after that, which is when they started to worry.


	12. Sound the Alarm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is awakened in a rather rude way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-13  
> Words: 4 000

It was during the evening snack that a deafening crash was heard from the living room and Anna, Kenneth and Dianne ran to investigate. A loud snarl came from the room as a vase and table was crushed by something invisible. A strong smell of sulphur emanated from the room and the invisible beast clearly jumped over the couch and landed on the floor, causing the boards to break under it.

“Get back, Demon!” Kenneth, once priest, called out and held out his necklace cross, only receiving another growl as an answer. Large cracks from claws appeared in the floor as the creature tore out a triangle. The humans took a step back as black flames came from the triangle and a short man with a bit of stubble in a suit appeared.

“Demon,” the priest gasped and held out his cross as a barrier between them, making the man with black hair give him a condescending smile.

“Crowley, King of Hell, actually,” the man corrected amused and petted the creature beside him, “I see you’ve met Barby. Go Fetch.” The sound of the heavy creature vanishing up the stairs behind the King of Hell drew a panicked expression from everyone inside the kitchen. “You know, the only thing holding a cross towards me will compel me to do is snap your neck.” Crowley held out his hand and the cross was yanked out of the priest’s hand. The silver necklace landed in his hand as a large thump was heard and the humans saw how something was dragging Gabriel over the floor. Crowley stared surprised at what had to be an unconscious angel and took a few steps away and out of the safety of the triangle when the celestial being tumbled down the stairs and landed on his back before him.

“Well, I’m damned, and clearly; it’s my birthday,” Crowley declared contently to himself as the hellhound got down the stairs and placed itself between its master and the humans.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Kenneth called out as Crowley walked around the angel and was ignored while the hellhound growled. The King of Hell placed a hand on the angel’s forehead, feeling that the celestial was still in the vessel. His hand smoked as he pulled it away and gave it a disgruntled look; the angel was oozing power from his skin, which was a bit strange since as far as he knew angels couldn’t become sick. Had this angel eaten souls? It was the only thing he could think of that would cause an angel to ooze power.

While listening to the humans trying to get around the hellhound he used his feet to push the celestial being’s limbs to his body and pulled out a small pocket flask. Humming to himself he poured a ring of holy oil around the angel and snapped his fingers, causing flames to erupt.

“Now watch this,” Crowley grinned to the priest and held out his hand above the black triangle on the floor, pulling a black spear from it and poured holy oil over its tip. He lit the oil in the already blazing flames and then stabbed it deep into the angel’s thigh.

Gabriel felt a soaring pain bring him out of his unconsciousness. He cried out in pain.  He panted as the world around him wobbled in and out of focus and was filled with flames. His eyes found the spear in his leg and then the one holding it.

“Sorry for the rude awakening,” Crowley grinned and pulled out the weapon, receiving another shout from his captive, “could’ve done it in a less painful manner, but where’s the fun in that?”

“You,” Gabriel groaned and sat up, hissing the word ‘ass’ at the demon and was careful to not touch the inferno as his unannounced enemy blew out the flames on the spear.

“Me, yes,” the demon agreed with a condescending smile and waited for the celestial to stand.

“What do you want?” Gabriel asked and carefully healed the outer part of his injury, stopping the bleeding. The stab infected with burning holy oil would, however, take time to fully heal.

“Power, fame, a shag, expensive whiskey,” Crowley tilted his head, “and to know who’s the big bad feather duster in heaven now.”

“Oh? Planning on running for president?” the archangel asked with a sneer and saw the demon grin.

“Wow, I must be dreaming, _an angel made a joke_ ,” the demon pinched his arm and missed how Gabriel threw a glance to the ceiling, causing black lines to begin to form above him, “very well. You sure are a rare breed. I didn’t even know your kind was capable of humor. And since I’m in a great mood, I _might_ not drag you to hell as my pet, you could after all teach those other holier-than-thou twats a thing or two. So, how about a deal? I don’t poke you again and you tell me who rules.”

“No one does,” Gabriel muttered and crossed his arms, seeing Crowley’s eyebrows rise.

“No one? But I thought Castiel won the war?” the demon narrowed his eyes.

“Castiel doesn’t want to rule.”

“Of course he doesn’t. _Why_ am I surprised? _Nothing_ ever goes the way _I_ want it to.” Crowley rolled his eyes in irritation, “now who do I have the outmost pleasure in dealing with?”

“Saiinov,” Gabriel answered and saw how his enemy narrowed his eyes.

“Saiinov, right,” the demon droned, clearly not believing him. The spear was swung around, the tip going through the flames, lighting it again and was then pressed against Gabriel’s throat, burning his vessel.

“Lavanel! It’s Lavanel!” the archangel called out, feeling the burn of holy fire on his throat and face, but Gabriel couldn’t move away unless he wanted to walk into more fire, and he was already dangerously close to being injured.

“I don’t like liars,” Crowley warned and pulled the spear away, blowing out the holy fire. “Huh?” he uttered with a surprised look as he saw that the fire had melted most of the tip. Gabriel sent a glance to the ceiling, seeing the last of the lines connect.

Crowley cried out as the spear burnt him and made him drop it. With a scowl he looked to the floor and then the ceiling, seeing that he was caught.  
“Impressive trick. Here I thought catching you in a ring of fire would make you as harmless as a demon in a devil’s trap,” he commented, seeing that the devil’s trap had been burnt into the wood above him, “but you forget that I’m not alone. I suggest you release me. Barby, have a holy snack.”

Gabriel’s eyes were immediately drawn to the hellhound, seeing the black fire that rose from the top of its head all the way to the end of its tail. The red eyes fastened on him and a blow of hot sulphur left the creature’s mouth. The hellhound jumped and the archangel crouched as he pulled out his blade, knowing that his vessel together with the egg would be turned to crisp if he was pushed out of the circle. His blade pierced the creature’s paw as it landed on him, crushing the floorboards underneath them, and then sent his weapon spinning out of the large circle. Claws buried themselves into Gabriel’s chest as he held the head away, but despite his efforts the large teeth slammed in front of his face as the beast’s jaws snapped closed. His grace shone out of his eyes, trying to scare the creature away, but the combined strain from the Fall, the hellfire, the egg and the entrapment in holy fire made him too weak to smite it.

“Release me, and I’ll call her off,” Crowley bargained with a grin as he saw how pathetically powerless the angel was. Suddenly the King of Hell yelled, more in surprise than in pain. He turned around, seeing a black-haired woman back away after having attacked him.

“Now, darling, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” Crowley asked and pulled out the kitchen knife from his back before throwing it at her. She barely dodged it and got a large cut along her arm. The demon gave the woman a dirty look before turning back to the angel with weakly glowing eyes, seeing how his hellhound stopped biting at its victim to pull away and tilt its head.

“Barby? What are you doing?” Crowley asked suspiciously as the head of the beast tilted to the other side and the burning tail began to wag.

“Barby, attack!” the man gave the order in a harsh voice, but the hellhound just whined a bit and tilted its head to the other side. Gabriel stared surprised at the creature; he hadn’t done anything, but all of a sudden it just had no bloodlust left. Barby drew nearer and sniffed his face, and he was certain that she wouldn’t attack him. With a playful bark she began licking his face.

“What?! No! Stop it!” Gabriel tried to push it away, but as she’d already closed in on him enough to reach his face he couldn’t do anything but to try and look away.

“Bad Barby! Bad!” Crowley howled, seeing his fierce beast turn friendly, “Barby! You bite the angel! Bite! Not lick! That’s _disgusting!_ Stop _licking_ him!” The King of Hell could do nothing but hear the angel begin to laugh. “Barby! Attack!”

“Stop that!” Gabriel cackled as the creature slobbered all over his neck and then got an idea. “Sit, Barby! Sit!” The giant hellhound sat down, unfortunately on top of the archangel, making him wheeze from the weight.

“No! What have you done to my beautiful pooch?!” the demon yelled unhappily, “Barby! Attack!”

“Barby! Get off me!” the trickster pointed out the circle and saw the black creature follow order.

“I have some experience handling large creatures,” Gabriel said with a grin as he got up slowly and traced a hand over his neck, feeling the sticky mucus coat him and now his hand. “Barby! Attack him!” The King of Hell froze, but the hellhound just scratched itself behind its ear.

“Ha! She won’t obey you! You won’t get out!”

“Father Jones, do you have a fire extinguisher?” Gabriel asked with a large grin, seeing that the demon had forgotten about the family for a second.

“Crap,” Crowley sighed as the priest got the red tool and dowsed the fire around the celestial. Gabriel picked up his blade and walked up to the devil’s trap.

“What are you doing here, demon?” he asked.

“I prefer; King of Hell,” the short-haired demon stated.

“Oh? So you’re Crowley? I expected someone more,” the trickster frowned as he pretended to think, “ _capable_ , but I guess anyone can make up whatever title they want to have. I’m the sky princess.”

“Fantastic, you’ve heard of me, but I can’t say the same about you, princess,” Crowley teased.

“Really? But I’m the angel that killed the King of Hell,” Gabriel smirked and let the blade’s tip run along the skin of the demon’s throat, “what are you doing here?”

“Out for a stroll with my doggie,” the King declared arrogantly, seemingly not caring about the weapon that could easily be pushed into his skull. The trickster pulled away and stared at the demon, before turning to the priest. “Father, can you take a glass of water and bless it.” The man quickly turned into the kitchen.

“You’re gonna have to do much worse than a glass of holy water,” Crowley smirked contently while being ignored, “I _bathe_ in the stuff. Really, I’ve got a pool; right beside my castle.”

“Thank you, Father,” Gabriel smiled as he was handed the glass. He doused a few fingers and flicked the droplets on the demon’s face, more in spite than to torture him. Crowley only closed his eyes as the drops of holy water burnt him and then evaporated with a hiss.

“Oh, the terror! The pain! It’s so awful,” the demon said theatrically in a bored voice and rolled his eyes, ”you’re terrible at this. I could invite you home and give you a demonstration.” Gabriel ignored the pique as he stared at the water, feeling how his sluggish grace flowed into it.

“Now, how about this, Crowley,” Gabriel stated as he looked up to the trapped man, “you tell me what you are doing here and I won’t shove this glass of water down your throat.”

“All I hear is blah blah, steal my candy, blah blah, spit on my shoes,” Crowley shook his head, “why don’t you try to make a serious threat?” the demon grinned and Gabriel held up the glass, letting him see that it had begun to shine ominously.

“How’s that for a threat?” Gabriel asked and watched the demon stare at him with confusion, making him realize that Crowley had never seen grace imbued holy water. “I see, you have no idea what this is, so I’ll just show you.” Gabriel grabbed the demon’s face, bending open his jaws and poured the water in before clenching the jaws shut. Crowley tried spitting it out, but a strong hand over his mouth prevented him and as he swallowed Gabriel released him and backed away. Knowing what was coming, he used his powers to seal the house so that no sound could be heard, and just as he did Crowley fell to his knees, screaming and clawing at his chest. The grace spread though his body like threads of venom, making his skin glow and his insides literally burn away parts of him. Gabriel waited and listened in on the screams, not caring about it, but he could see that the humans were uncomfortable.

“What the hell was that?!” Crowley barked out and panted, trying to get up, but failed and trembling collapsed on his knees.

“Don’t you worry about that, kiddo,” Gabriel grinned and leaned down to his prisoner, “now what are you doing here? And what do you want with me?”

“I wanted a _new_ _winged_ _pet_ , since Ass-tiel killed my last,” Crowley growled angrily and made the angel shake his head.

“Nope,” he said and walked away, knowing that if he wanted a new ‘pet’ he would’ve just dragged him to hell immediately without waking him. Gabriel went into the kitchen, placed the glass on the counter and conjured up a needle. He then walked up to the priest.

“Father, may I?” The man nodded and rolled up the arms on his shirt.

“Thank you, Father,” the angel smiled as he’d filled the needle and then walked up to the demon, hiding it.

“Just so you know, Crowley,” he began and crouched down to the demon’s eyelevel, “I know how to play dirty.” Gabriel held up the syringe and saw how Crowley’s face scrunched together. “The blood of a saint might not be as good as the blood of the prophet, but hey, I haven’t got a prophet.”

“You backstabbing cunt,” the King of Hell snarled as the needle was placed inside the devil’s trap within his reach. He picked it up with trembling hands, but then threw it into the wall, crushing the barrel and made the blood splash out. “I’m the King of Hell! Do you really think I can’t resist your _petty_ tactics?!”

“So the blood of a saint isn’t good enough for you?” Gabriel grinned and conjured up another syringe before plunging it into his own arm and drawing out red, shimmering blood. “How about the blood of a celestial?”

“ _What?_ ” Crowley stared at him in shock.

“If you like the blood of a prophet, it’s _nothing_ compared to the blood of an angel,” Gabriel let a slow grin form on his lips and he gave the demon an evil eye. He had no idea if a demon would even survive having blood mixed with grace shot into his veins, but he was a master in lying so why not go all in? “Once I’ve given you this, I will put you in a leash and we will go to Hell. You will declare me your master. I will parade you around on all fours like the little bitch you are, and then become the new ruler of Hell. You will become so addicted that you’d tear out your own heart if I ordered you to.”

“Lies,” Crowley whispered and searched the angel’s face for deception, finding only malice in Gabriel’s eyes.

“Oh, kiddo, you know nothing,” Gabriel closed in on the demon, pushing the piston so that a drop of blood trickled out, enabling Crowley to smell the power it held, “I’m the one who taught Naomi _all_ her dirty little tricks. Yet, she knew _nothing_.”

“A deal! I want a deal! A deal for my life! I know things! Leviathan things!” Crowley shouted, smelling the intoxicating scent in front of his face, and made the trickster take a step back to think about it.

“You weren’t looking for a pet-angel. Tell me why you were here.”

“What do I get?” Crowley growled lowly.

“How about; _not_ a dose of blood,” Gabriel offered and saw the demon’s face scowl.

“I want _freedom_ ,” the King of Hell stated and carefully got up while he saw how the angel twirled the syringe between his fingers.

“I’m willing to offer you your freedom, but not for the information. You are famous for keeping your deals, Crowley, so I’m prepared to make one,” Gabriel countered and then grinned, “you will simply owe me one. In the future, I might be in need of assistance. I get to call on you and you will uphold your end of the bargain. Whatever I need you to do, you will do.”

“Well, that’s a horrible deal,” Crowley grumbled and then gave a nod.

“There’s more in the deal for your freedom,” Gabriel stated and was careful of how to phrase the question. “You and your subordinates cannot kill, harm or interfere in this family’s current life, and for four generations, starting with the next child that is born from this moment on. You cannot communicate this meeting, nor this deal in any way to anybody or anything.”

“The terms are clear. I say yes. Now _seal_ the deal?” the demon smirked, but was surprised when the angel took a step closer and pressed their lips together. As they parted one of Crowley’s hands immediately went to cover his lips.

“That’s one hot kiss,” the demon remarked and removed his hands, showing that his lips were healing from having been burnt. “You might want to get checked out by a mechanic or an avian vet. You’re leaking fuel. Now free me.”

“Since you haven’t fulfilled your end of the bargain I don’t have to fulfil mine. So no, I won’t free you, not yet-,”

“I had hope in you! All deals I’ve ever made with angels have always screwed _me_ over! So why would you be different?!”

“Tell me why you are here,” Gabriel demanded and waited while the demon glared at him angrily.

“Fine, it’s the leviathans. From my sources I hear that they have gathered in a small number, and we all know what happens when those things start to get united underneath one leader. They are still fighting amongst themselves, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. I wanted to warn the angels, because you know, I’m just a _humble_ demon. So why not let the very hungry Godzilla and the feathery King Kong fight and we others can just hang back and hope it’s not too devastating to the world?” The demon shrugged with one shoulder and gave a trying smile.

“Why did you want to know about ruling in heaven?”

“I wanted you to tell me that Castiel was ruling, _because_ he’s the only angel that _gives_ _a crap_ about humanity. And humanity lives on this planet, and I care about this planet because _I live on it!”_ Crowley almost yelled, “so I needed to find an angel to use as a hostage to make sure he takes it _seriously!_ ”

“I’ll tell Castiel about the Leviathan,” Gabriel declared and pulled out his archangel blade again as he closed in on the demon with a malicious smirk.

“ _You gave your_ _word!_ ” Crowley called out in ire as he approached.

“And I keep it,” Gabriel said calmly, throwing his arm up and sent the weapon deep into the burnt wood, freeing the demon that immediately took a step away and out of the circle.

“Oh, then, I must say, for an angel you’re surprisingly pleasant to deal with,” the demon brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulder while Gabriel used his powers to draw the blade out of the ceiling and into his hands. “We just might meet again under much more pleasant circumstances.”

“Don’t keep your hopes up, Crowley,” Gabriel grinned with the weapon in his hands as the King of Hell passed him to get to the napping hellhound, “I only sleep with someone after the third date.”

“Lucky me, and here I thought that I would have to wait until marriage,” Crowley grinned amused and placed a hand in the flames on Barby’s head. “The angel blood, Lavanel, it was all a bluff, wasn’t it?”

“Yep, big time,” Gabriel grinned and got an approving nod.

“Very impressive performance,” the King of Hell bowed his head in respect and then vanished in a flame of black fire.

“You made a deal with a demon? What kind of angel are you?” the priest asked shocked.

“Of the demons competing for power in hell, he’s the one I’d vote for, and then kill,” Gabriel confessed and hid his blade away to check his injury to the chest.

“And sorry about the damages to your home,“ he mumbled as he opened his shirt to check the injury. The Hellfire and sulphur from the hound had leaked into his skin, creating a black paw print and deep cavities from the claws. It wasn’t bleeding, which meant that he could wait with healing it until he was stronger.

“How long was I out?” Gabriel wondered as he closed his shirt.

“About two weeks,” Anna responded.

“ _What?_ Two entire weeks?” the archangel stared at the woman, who just nodded.

“I’m sorry about all the damage and misfortune I’ve brought upon you,” he attempted to excuse himself as he realized that the egg most certainly was in danger and he had to get to the bunker, “I’d help you restore your house, but I’m afraid that my proximity to you might drag something else here. Something worse; like angels. I should leave.”

“Will we ever see you again?” Anna asked.

“Only Father knows that,” Gabriel grinned and spread his wings, feeling them tremble. He wasn’t certain if it was from weakness or strain, but he didn’t feel so well, and he knew that he just had to get to the bunker. With the rushing sound of wind through feathers he vanished and unsteadily flew through the sky. His wings seemed like they wanted to close and he quickly decided to ignore speed in favor of gliding. At that moment, he was happy to have three pair of wings as one pair was featherless and the second could rest while the third could help him glide.

He’d almost reached the bunker and the spasms that rippled through his wings had worsened. He’d fallen a few times before managing to force them to work and regain the height. He was exhausted and he was struggling to make his eyes remain open. He dropped a couple of meters again and beat his wings.

He was almost there when his eyes closed and wings folded, causing him for fall. His mind called out for the only angel that he trusted and he knew that he had to protect the egg at all cost. Plunging towards the Earth was the last thing he felt before unconsciousness grabbed full control over him. 


	13. State of Emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still, Gabriel sucks at landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-14  
> Words: 4 100

_“Castiel! Icarus!”_

The angel inside the bunker looked up from the laptop as he heard the strange voice through the ether. He narrowed his eyes, unable to pinpoint the voice that had called out the two names, but he knew of no angel named Icarus.

“Something wrong?” Dean asked as he saw the face his friend was making and made his brother look up.

“Icarus,” Castiel repeated the name.

“What about him?” Sam asked and Castiel turned to him surprised.

“You know someone named Icarus?” the angel questioned and saw the hunter smile.

“No, Icarus is a person from Greek mythology. He had wings made of wax and flew too close to the sun, causing his wings to melt and he fell into the sea and drowned,” Sam summarized the legend, “what about Icarus?”

“I heard it. Someone called out my name and then Icarus’, but I didn’t recognize the voice. It was strange. I’ve never heard a voice sound so distorted.”

“Wait, you heard it from here?” Dean asked and looked around the library.

“No, through the fabric of reality, but I believe you refer to it as ‘angel radio’,” Castiel explained while ignoring the voices of the angels as they too were unable to identify the strange voice and name. “All I know is that it came from the East.”

“Was it Gabriel?” Sam quickly questioned, but the celestial shook his head.

“No, I haven’t heard Gabriel’s distant voice in a long time, but I’m certain that I would recognize it, as would most other angels.”

Sam was worried that Gabriel had gotten hurt as they had not heard from him after he was dosed in hellfire and then killed their enemies, but if he was worried he knew that it was nothing compared to how stressed Castiel was. The angel had barely even sat down after the archangel vanished and if he wasn’t pacing he was completely focused on twirling his hands together, almost as if he was holding something invisible in them. When asked what he was doing Castiel only answered ‘arranging’, whatever that meant. Sam had pressed the angel for information on hellfire and knew that it was another of Lucifer’s creations, and one of the few things meant to kill anything and everything in its path. Angels, demons, humans, plants. Nothing survived hellfire and the two eldest archangels were the only ones to have ever controlled it enough not to get killed by it.

Castiel had told them that Gabriel had survived only because he absorbed the hellfire with the grace in his feathers and sacrificed them. It had frightened Castiel to see the archangel with burning black wings, reminding him of what Lucifer had looked like just before he’d been cast from heaven. Black, burning wings which injured and damaged any angel that came near them. Only Michael had had the dexterity to fight the Morningstar and had cast him down to Earth. Lucifer’s impact with the planet and the battle that took place afterwards had caused almost three-quarters of all species to become extinct, but life thankfully recovered afterwards.

* * *

A week without a single sound from Gabriel had gone by and they tried summoning Loki. None of them had the strength or the rare ingredients to summon an archangel, but after scouring the strange items in the storage they found a way to summon a Nordic god, unfortunately it failed, so they were left with searching for occurrences which could indicate a trickster, which was when the ether echoed with the peculiar voice, calling out the names of Castiel and Icarus.

Castiel read everything he could on the Greek legend during the following day and even took part of the knowledge Metatron had provided him with, but was unable to understand what it meant.

“Hey Cas,” Dean asked and got the attention of the angel, “what about this?” The hunter turned up the volume on the TV which showed a destroyed area. A helicopter flew over the smoking land and they got an overview of an impact crater and burning fields of corn.

“Yesterday evening at 21:34 the meteorite showed up out of nowhere and completely devastated this small community. NASA scientists are trying to find out how they could’ve missed it. They are tracking most near-earth objects large enough to make impacts this large, but this one came as a surprise as most meteorites burn up in the atmosphere. Over to a local scientist:”

“Thank you, Jane. Well, Dr. Bayya, could you explain to me how NASA missed this?” the male news presenter asked and turned to the second man in the screen.

“Well, we have over 15 000 tonnes of space debris entering our atmosphere each year, and most of that goes undetected and unnoticed,” the scientist explained and the news screen flicked back to the scene where fires were being put out. A banner rolled across the screen telling that at least 10 people have been injured and 25 had been affected by the blast radius.

“How big was this meteor?” the presenter asked and the scientist hesitated for a moment.

“As the investigation showed it to have vaporized on impact we will never know. It could’ve been a large meteoroid moving at a slow speed or a small one moving fast. One should never underestimate small objects moving at fast speeds. Sometimes smaller is more dangerous. In space, size doesn’t matter nearly as much as speed.”

“Thank you for that Dr. Bayya,” the news reader’s voice came and a small image of the man came up in the corner, “Jane, tell me; how’s the identification of the injured going?”

“Well, from what I hear, Jeremy,” the woman showed up again, standing beside a seemingly ecstatic man, “most of the affected have been identified, but the five worst injured are still unconscious and have been taken to the local hospital; one of them have been taken into emergency operation and it’s doubtful that he will survive, apparently he has severe burns over his body and must’ve been close to the impact.”

“Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time,” Jeremy interjected.

“Indeed, but with me here is Tom Davis, who saw the meteor with his own eyes as he and his friends were celebrating a birthday at a nearby bar,” Jane turned to the man she was on screen with and Dean muted the TV.

“What about it?” the elder Winchester suggested excited and waved with the controller towards the TV, “the meteor fell from the sky, and so did Icarus! Bo-yah.”

“Sure, but we still don’t know what it means,” Sam stated while watching the silent screen, “and what’s Cas’ relation to the meteor? Is it dangerous for him to go to it? Does someone want help?”

“Let’s check it out! We’ve got our bags packed, and it’s not doing us any good to just sit here and wait for Gabriel,” Dean insisted and turned to the angel who seemed to be the least interested. “Cas, what’d ya say?”

“I’ll stay here, and wait for Gabriel,” the angel stated with a concerned look on his face, “what if he shows up outside and can’t get in?”

“Come on man,” Dean took a deep breath, “if Gabriel truly wanted to be here he would be here, assuming he isn’t dead.”

“He’s not dead,” Castiel asserted strongly, “I would’ve heard it. Someone would’ve heard it, and there would’ve been a commotion in heaven, because the others don’t know that he’s still alive, and angels just don’t die over and over again.”

“Okay, how about this,” Dean looked up to the ceiling on the library, “hey there, dearest archangel Gabriel, yea this is Dean, and I’m praying to you, ya dick! We don’t give a shit if you don’t want to live here, but Cas is worried sick! Call us.” The hunter picked up his phone, looking at it as if he knew that it would ring.

“Does he even have our number?” Sam wondered, knowing that angels usually listened when Dean prayed for them.

“Archangel Gabriel, if you haven’t been snooping around in our phones and know our numbers, mine is; 713-866-6249. Call me, now…” Dean waited a few seconds, “that is; 7-1-3 8-6-6 6-2-4-9. Are you calling? No, then pick up the phone you lazy son-of-a-bitch and push the digits 7 1 3 – 8 6 6 – 6 2 4 9. And then you press the little call button-thingy, usually looks like a green old school-phone, or a cucumber. Come on, man, we’re waiting! And Cas is doing his puppy-eyes. Come on, don’t let your baby-bro down… He needs you, man. You might be an ass, but you’re family, so pick up the phone. You don’t get to come here, fuck things up, and leave; that’s not how family works.” Dean quieted down, waited and watched as the small ounce of hope that had lit up his best friend’s eyes died out.

“Come on man, Gabriel, Archangel of the Lord, Messenger of Heaven, pick up the god damn phone, or so help me God, I will beat you to an inch from death. I will find you, and use you to stuff a fucking pillow. You don’t get to mess with Cas this way. All I’m asking for is a fucking call!” Dean looked down to his phone and shook his head.

“You better be out of range, unconscious, captured or some shit, because if you are just ignoring us… You’re… You’re a fucking asshole and we’ll find you...”

The older Winchester sighed and stared angrily at the phone, hoping that it would ring, but it never did.

“Well, that worked about as well as an engine-less car,” Dean muttered and scowled in anger, “let’s recap. Gabriel showed up in the barn. Got blasted by hellfire. Killed the witches and the soul sucking-bastard-,”

“Efreet,” Sam interjected.

“Whatever, the bastard, and flew away. Why did he fly away?” Dean continued.

“Because the use of hellfire sends out alarms among certain fractions in heaven and angels are sent to investigate, also he said that his oath began,” Castiel explained.

“But Gabriel can hide himself so well that angels can’t tell that he’s an angel, but the werewolves sniffed around the forests without sensing any archangel-barbeque, which means that he didn’t land close,” Dean went through the knowledge and Castiel nodded along. “We’ve crossed Grantsburg off the list and that basically means that we’ve got the rest of the world left. What clues have we got? He’s doing something for someone which involves him getting weaker. Cas, what could that be?”

“He could be giving away grace, though in his state he shouldn’t be doing it,” the trench-coated angel stated with concern.

“Well, if we assume that he’s not dead, but as he’s not answering, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he’d either unconscious or captured or some shit. Firstly; who would’ve caught him?”

“Angels,” Castiel suggested with a worried frown.

“Loki’s enemies? Demons? Leviathan?” Sam ratted off and wrote it down on the computer as Dean nodded.

“Okay, the angels, Cas,” the older hunter turned to his friend, “who would be able to catch Gabriel? No, wait. No one knows that he’d alive, well, except Meta-douche. So, which angels showed up by the hellfire incident?”

“Inias, Dumah, Elyon, Diniel and Mihr,” Castiel informed as Sam frowned and decided to just write the names as they sounded rather than how they were supposed to be spelled.

“And which of them are the least trustworthy, or who is, or has been acting strange?” Dean continued.

“No one has been acting strange. Mihr have been doing her best to recreate the souls’ bodies. They were early taken and heaven made them scream. The wheels were very upset-,”

“The what?” Dean interrupted with a chuckle.

“The wheels; they are angels who have shed their bodies. They govern the souls in paradise. Mihr and Diniel are working with the wheels to recreate the children’s bodies to return them. Something unthinkable, but the wheels are demanding it,” Castiel explained as Dean hummed along, “Inias I trust with my life. Dumah doesn’t say or do much, not since Bath’Kol died. Dumah is known for sitting atop the mountain, Nezlida, in heaven. Bath’Kol used to spend most times there. I believe Dumah was in love with Bath’Kol, and with his mourning stopped talking. He sits there as always and haven’t moved much. Well, he actually lay down on his stomach a few days ago. Elyon has been busy with clearing up arguments in his new position as the controller of Nezlida.”

“And Ini-watever? What has he been up to?”

“I trust him,” Castiel stated, but as Dean only stared at him he continued, “he’s been doing what I’ve been telling him to.”

“Alright, sorry Cas, but your track record for trusting the wrong person is quite long,” Dean stated sympathetically, knowing that both of the Winchesters’ weren’t any better.

“We were close, very close. A couple by human standards, but we got separated a long time ago. I was sent to Earth some millennia before him. I know him better than anyone, but nowadays we’re only close friends,” Castiel stated with a firm glare, as if daring the hunter to say that Inias had betrayed him.

“Next on the list; Loki’s enemies,” Sam specified with a grimace, interrupting the tense air and the shocked expression on his brother’s face.

“Great! Everyone Gabriel ever pissed off,” Dean sighed and stretched his back; ignoring the fact that Inias was a “he”, which meant that Castiel batted for both teams, “can’t we just assume that it’s every single demigod?” After a while of debating they got to the conclusion that the only reason Gabriel would be caught by a demigod was if he refused to leave his vessel, which was possible since an archangel would have a hard time finding a new vessel that he wouldn’t burn through. It would be nearly impossible to know which demigod was alive and which was dead, and which would lock the trickster up instead of killing him so they decided to go with the unconscious theory first.

“Do you even get how many hospitals we’ll have to check?” Sam asked disturbed.

“Come on! We just have to check if they got a John Doe! We can probably do it from the computer!” Dean stated as Sam searched and then sighed once the result came up.

“Okay, it was fewer than I thought,” the younger Winchester nodded, “I guess we just begin at the top of the list.”

“Nice going! You’re a freaking hacker!” Dean clapped his hands together, realizing that his computer was in his room.

“It’s called google,” Sam stated and looked at his brother like he was an idiot.

“Whatever, bitch, I’ll check and see if all of our IDs are still left, and get the computer, be right back,” Dean stated and ran as Sam muttered a ‘jerk’ after him.

“Doesn’t he seem a little too happy to be looking for Gabriel?” Sam wondered and turned to the angel.

“Boredom,” Castiel stated and looked down on the laptop that Gabriel had created for him; if only he had had his own grace he could’ve searched every hospital within a few days even though it was unlikely that Gabriel was unconscious.

Sam stared at the list of hospital names and frowned, not liking the thought of Gabriel completely weak and helpless. He knew that the trickster had been killed by Lucifer, but Sam had not been there to see it; he’d only watched the ridiculous DVD where Gabriel had told him that he was dead.

“Cas? How much of the hellfire would’ve hurt Gabriel? How injured would he have become?” Sam wondered and met the angel’s gaze.

“There is no telling, but I saw him control the fire. Maybe he would’ve lost two or three wings. He would still be able to fly, but he would be in a lot of pain,” Castiel assumed.

“What if he landed somewhere and lost consciousness? Would he be able to tell that he was going to faint?”

“Angels do not lose consciousness…”

“What if it really was him who called out Icarus?”

“It can’t be. I would’ve recognized his voice. _All angels_ would’ve recognized it.”

“What if he distorted it somehow?”

“No one can do that,” Castiel explained tiredly and Sam knew that he was irritating the angel until Castiel’s eyes widened in shock and realization.

“What are you thinking?” Sam wondered quickly.

“It was Gabriel! If he technically yelled back in time his voice would’ve become transformed, because we’re not allowed to actually do it! That was why his voice was distorted, only someone as strong as an archangel would be able to do it,” the angel shot up from the chair. “Get Dean and your bags, I’ll take the car outside!” Castiel commanded and ran towards the stairs, making the hunter immediately take action.

* * *

Sam frowned at the blog he was reading on his tablet, having found it after searching for the hospital that the victims of the meteor blast were taken to. The girl in the blog was excitedly explaining the miracle of the meteorite as people at that hospital were now being healed without any explanation. The blind could see, deaf could hear, lame could walk and people lying at their deathbed were healing. According to the girl’s grandmother, her cancer was gone and one of her friends who was blinded by age could see after visiting the hospital. Sam brought up a local newspaper and worriedly scanned through the headline.

‘ _The miracle of Saint John’s Hospital,_ ’ it said and underneath he read of how the reporter had literally seen how a newly operated woman had her stitches removed, because during the time it took the doctors to get her from operation to the wakeup she had completely healed all her medical scars.

“Something’s going on at the hospital,” Sam commented to the car, making both the other occupants give him their attention and Dean lowered the music, indicating that Sam could continue.

“People are being healed mysteriously. The blind can literally see and the lame walk. How far are we from Leavenworth?”

“Approximately three hours,” Castiel supplied as he calculated their speed.

“Oh, please, Cas,” Dean huffed and rolled his eyes, “Baby has a V8 engine, we’ll be there in two.”

As to demonstrate the car’s power, Dean pressed the pedal down and the car surged forward with a roar of the engine.

“The meteor strike happened yesterday, so if there were any nearby hunters they would’ve honed in on the hospital by now,” Sam said with a hint of worry.

“Yea, but they are searching for a hunk of space rock, not a fallen angel,” Dean commented as he kept his eyes on the road, searching for any traffic cop out that day and whizzed past a few cars.

“Yea, let’s hope that no one is as bored as you,” Sam jibed and watched how his brother grinned amused.

“At least they haven’t got an engine like Baby,” the older of the two sneered back.

Sam stared down at the tablet, using it to determine a way of attack before speaking up after a couple of minutes.

“We should dress up as doctors. That way we’ll have access to the entire hospital. There’s a costume store only a few blocks south of the hospital.

* * *

Much to Sam’s frustration, the costume store had no clothing in his size so they decided that he would be family.

The three hunters entered the hospital, seeing that there were patients in the corridors and nurses rushing about. The hospital seemed to be overwhelmed with injured. As they passed the waiting room Sam heard something about a large car crash in passing caused by a truck tipping over and crashing with a bus.

Dean leaned over the desk as they got passed the waiting room.   
“Hey, we’re sent here from Saint Luke’s to pick up a John Doe, to give you extra room,” the older hunter held up a medical card and the stressed nurse at the desk nodded before she started to type on the computer.

“We currently have all the John Does in the surgery wing. We need all the help we can get,” the woman stated in a quick speed to Dean and then pointed in to the door, “go past two corridors and then to the right. There’s a nurses’ desk in the wing and they’ll be able to help you further.” Dean nodded as the woman turned back to the long line of patients that had minor injuries and was waiting to speak with her.

“Okay, thanks,” Dean smiled and headed through the door, hearing the noise diminish slightly, only to be replaced by several alarm codes beeping and nurses quickly walking into the different rooms.

The group of hunters made their way with a fast pace, keeping up the appearance that they knew where they were going and that they had something important to do. As they came to a calmer nurses’ station Dean approached on his own.

“Hello, we’re looking for a John Doe,” the nurse looked up and then checked his ID before sitting down to type at the computer.

“We have 15 John Does,” she stated in a monotone voice and looked up to the doctor with tired eyes; it was at the end of a 12-hour shift and she just wanted some sleep.

“We have a family member here to identify one of them,” Dean smiled reassuringly and made a head tilt towards Sam.

“Good,” she got up and then pointed into a corridor beside the desk, “Room 14 F and 14 H.”

Dean nodded and thanked her before making a small wave to the others in his team. They quickly made their way into the room and walked from bed to bed, not finding the angel in the first room. They entered the second room and saw that one of the occupants had a curtain around the bed. A quick glance around the room confirmed that the rest of the people in the room wasn’t Gabriel. Dean walked up to the curtain and peaked inside, scaring a nurse.

“Sorry, need any help?” Dean wondered the moment he saw that she was changing the bandages on Gabriel’s chest. She shrugged and Dean saw that she was an intern.

“Cas, take a look at this wound for a second,” Dean asked and the intern held up the enormous claw print so that both of the doctors could take a look.

“We’ll take care of the rest, you can take some seconds off; have a refreshing cup of coffee or help someone else,” the hunter commanded as Castiel narrowed his eyes at the injury. The nurse nodded and then pulled off her gloves before leaving the room.

“Is that what I think it is?” Dean wondered quietly as Sam entered the small space around the archangel.

“Looks like a hellhound’s print,” Sam mused and Castiel nodded.

“It _is_ from a hellhound.”

“Let’s patch him up and get going,” Dean stated and pulled on a pair of gloves from a box that hung on the wall.

“Is Gabriel in there?” Sam suddenly asked and saw how Castiel nodded.

“Why would you even ask that?” the older of the Winchesters wondered and expertly redid the work the young intern had done.

“Well, I’ve never seen an angel unconscious before,” the young hunter mused and watched his brother stop at the sentence.

“True-,” Dean stopped taking as the door opened and someone entered.

“And in here we have the last of the people injured by the meteorite. Let’s see… the two patients by the corner and the one who has his bandages changed,” a doctor stated and the hunters shared a look as Dean hurriedly worked with the bandages.

“Wait? Didn’t everyone injured by the meteor miraculously heal?” a male voice came.

“The worst injured are healing, while minor cuts and bruises have healed completely. The two people by the corner were covered in burns, but now they are almost healed. Another day and they will not have a single reminder of being struck by a comet. The man is the only one not healing at the same pace as everyone else. He heals slower.”

“Can we see him,” a second female voice demanded and the hunters froze as Dean finished the bandages.

“Sure, but what does the FBI want with this hospital’s patients?” the female doctor wondered curiously and the hunters shared a look with each other.

“That’s classified.”

“Fine, keep your secrets,” the female doctor sighed and then approached the hunters. Dean bit his lower lip and then walked out of the small space behind the curtain with a smile on his lips.

* * *

 

Note: Lucifer was the Chicxulub asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.   
Scientists believe that ~66 million years ago an asteroid collided with Earth just outside the Mexican town of Chicxulub and caused the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event. ~75% of all species went extinct.


	14. A Mouthful of Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is a doctor. Sam is a meal. Castiel is a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-15  
> Words: 3 800

“Well, if it isn’t Dr. Warner!” Dean greeted after having peaked at the woman’s ID and held out a hand, “I’m Dr. Derek Shepherd, sent here from Saint Luke’s to pick up a John Doe.”

“What? That can’t be right,” the woman looked confused and Dean nodded.

“I was as surprised as you were when I got the order, but all the papers have been sent over,” Dean stated with conviction, “we all just need to place a signature and we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Papers?”

“Yea, they should’ve been sent this morning.”

“Okay, I see, Dr. Shephard, let me just go and get the papers and let the FBI see the patient,” Dr. Warner stated and then turned on her heal to walk out of the door.

“So you’re FBI?” Dean grinned and eyed the short woman, she seemed tiny but fierce. The lady with straight dark hair held up her badge with a scowl; clearly, she was used to not being believed.

“Agent Valentine and Agent Clouseau,” the woman stated and Dean recognized the old badges; these two were definitely not with the FBI, “may we see the patient now?”

“Of course,” Dean agreed and then opened the curtain, “this is Dr. Smith and Mr. Wesson, orderly, and of course a patient, John Doe.”

“Agent Valentine and Agent Clouseau,” the woman greeted and the two FBI-agents held up their badges again, allowing both Castiel and Sam to see that it was old badges.

“Tell us about this patient, doctor,” the tall FBI-agent with dark hair demanded and Dean shrugged.

“Well, there’s not much to tell. He was found near the meteor crater with some burns and other injuries, but while the burns have healed some of the other injuries have yet to heal,” Dean expertly lied and then pulled Castiel to the side, not caring that the fake FBI-agents could think it was weird.

“Can’t you mojo him awake or something?” Dean questioned quietly making the angel nod.

Castiel ignored the two curious FBI-agents’ eyes that were on him as he approached and then gently laid his hand on top of Gabriel’s chest. No more had he summoned his grace before Gabriel’s eyes flew open and he was pushed away with the force of a small explosion. He was shocked as he landed on top of the woman after having accidentally knocked her unconscious. Everything in the room froze, but Dean reacted first, knocking out the remaining fake FBI-agent.

“What are you doing?” Sam hissed as he watched his brother grin.

“Plan B,” Dean stated and helped the celestial up from the floor, “grab Gabriel and let’s go!”

“We can’t just leave them here!” Sam argued, knowing that they didn’t want any more hunters angry with them and Dean looked to the unconscious lady; she was kind of hot and he realized that the strange hunters might get in trouble if they just left them there.

“Okay, fine, we do this your way. How do we get them out before Dr. Warner shows up?” Dean hissed back and Sam eyed the bed.

“Valentine can fit in bed with Gabriel, and there’s a wheelchair beside the door where we can put Clouseau,” Sam stated in a quick pace and Dean immediately moved to the woman, picking her up and placing her in bed with the archangel while Castiel picked up the man and Sam ran for the wheelchair.

“We’ll get them all out fastest through the emergency port, straight ahead,” Dean stated and made sure that Valentine was completely covered before he began to wheel out the bed. In the corridor, Sam joined Dean with the bed as Castiel wheeled Clouseau behind them. They could see the emergency entrance from the room and it only took them a minute or two to get there.

“Dude,” Dean stated and then made a head gesture to a parked ambulance.

“No, we’re not stealing an ambulance,” Sam hissed back, but Dean had already turned the bed towards it and was heading to it. Sam couldn’t do anything else but to follow as arguing would draw unwanted attention. Dean hastily unlocked it, skilled in lock picking, and opened the back.

“Get them in and I’ll drive,” the older of the Winchesters commanded and went to the front to hotwire the vehicle while Castiel and Sam lifted the people into the back. Gabriel got to lay on the bunk while the two fake FBI-agents lay cuddled against the wall.

“Ready,” Sam called out as he closed the doors and the ambulance drove off. The young human guarded the two unconscious agents while Castiel quickly inspected every place of Gabriel’s body finding the half-healed stab wound and the burns on his throat and grew concerned over what had happened to the archangel.

“Cas, what happened in the hospital?” Dean suddenly asked from the front as Castiel covered up his older brother’s vessel with the hospital cloth.

“Gabriel had a protection on him, a spell meant to warn off anyone to use grace on him,” the falling angel explained, “but I felt a shift in his grace so he should wake up at any moment.”

* * *

It wasn’t even ten minutes until they made their way out of the city and to the west where they stopped at the road near a grove of trees.

“You two can tie these two up while I get Baby,” Dean commanded and both Castiel and Sam got out. Castiel gently carried his brother into the grove while Sam brought out the woman and some restraints. Castiel returned for the man and the moment the doors to the ambulance closed the vehicle sped off. Sam snorted as he heard the sirens come on and then went to tie up the agents.

Sam got into the forest glade and happily saw that Castiel was kneeling beside his brother that was moving an arm.

“How is he?” the hunter wondered as he got down to tie up the agents and saw that Gabriel’s mouth moved.

“I do not believe that he is currently capable of rational judgement,” Castiel frowned down at his brother in concern.

“Really? What is he saying?” the hunter wondered curiously and finished tying the two agents up.

“He asks if I’ve tasted the color spectrum and then claims that red has the best flavor,” the angel explained and Sam realized that he was paraphrasing.

“What did he say, in his own words?”

“Cassie, have you tasted the rainbow? Red is best,” Castiel repeated and made the hunter laugh.

“He’s talking about skittles. It’s a candy,” Sam clarified to the angel that hummed and got up from the ground to watch as the hunter went through the FBI-agent’s pockets. Sam pulled out pens, IDs, a tiny notebook, five guns, a half-eaten bag of M&Ms and much to his surprise; an angel blade.

“Cas?” Sam began and held out the blade, making the seraph walk over to take it in his hands.

“This belongs to Galizur,” Castiel stated surprised and then made the blade vanish, “I wonder how he lost it…”

“I wonder how many angel blades there currently are on Earth,” Sam stated and then opened the notebook, seeing that the fake FBI-agents were thinking that it was a demon that were healing the people in exchange for souls. Curious, Sam picked up one of the guns, opened it and pulled out a bullet, seeing that it was embedded with tiny devil’s traps at the back before he pushed the bullet into the magazine and returned the gun to the ground.

“Rainbow…” Gabriel groaned and Sam picked up the M&Ms before walking over to the sugar craving trickster.

“I do not believe that these binds will hold them,” Castiel observed as he examined the way Sam had the agents tied up.

“It’s not meant to hold them. We’re just going to wait for Dean to come back and then get out of dodge,” Sam explained and crouched down beside the trickster as Castiel got up to glare at the agents with suspicion.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have any skittles,” Sam cooed gently to the archangel, seeing an eye open, roll around and then close, “I have some M&Ms if that’s good enough.”

“Blue,” the trickster hummed contently and Sam poured out some of the candy in his hand to see their color before picking up the right color and giving it away. With a smirk he watched the angel chew, but then realized that the angel was making a weird sound; he was purring.

“Gabriel, are you purring?” Sam questioned suspiciously.

“Happy angel, purr, purr, purr,” the trickster laughed a bit drugged.

“Yellow,” Gabriel opened his mouth a notch, anticipating the candy, and Sam grinned amused; he was never going to let the trickster live this down. The hunter picked out a yellow piece of candy and dropped it into the archangel’s mouth before placing the rest of the candy in his own hand.

An animalistic growl made Sam twitch back only to see the woman leap up towards Castiel with a mouth full of sharp teeth. The angel merely scowled and caught her with a hand around her neck. Not expecting anything stronger than her, Valentine hissed surprised when she struggled and was unable to get out of the grip. The more she struggled, the stronger the grip around her neck became and Castiel lifted her from the ground with only one arm. Valentine retracted her teeth and whimpered as she tried to get out of the grip; this wasn’t the first creature she’d ever encountered that was so much stronger than her. Demons.

“Cas, don’t kill her!” Sam called out as he saw the angel’s callous eyes never faltered from the woman.

“She attacked me,” Castiel stated calmly as he watched the vampire gasp for air and claw at his arm.

“I know, we’ll deal with it later. Just put her down for now,” Sam begged and then saw how the woman fell from Castiel’s grip. Valentine landed on her back and gasped for air as tears ran from her eyes. Castiel turned to the hunter with a curious expression, wondering why he would spare a vampire.

“Don’t you dare move!” Sam called out as Valentine started to crawl towards the guns and got up in a run. Before the vampire had reached the weapons, Sam had thrown his entire weight on top of her, making her wheeze. The hunter reached behind the tree and pulled the restraints so the he could tie the vampire up better, but she didn’t struggle as much as he’d thought she would.

Sam got up and dragged the vampire to the tree, leaning her on it and saw that she was pretty much out of it; her eyes darted around and she was breathing shallowly, unable to focus on his face.

“Hey,” he patted her cheek and made her look at him in confusion, “breathe.”

“Demon!” she spat in his face and hissed with her teeth visible, making Sam stroke the spit away from his face and give her a glare.

“We’re not demons. We’re hunters,” Sam stated with an amused look and Valentine froze.

“Prove it!” she demanded and Sam held out his hand to the angel.

“Cas, can I borrow the blade,” the hunter asked without taking his eyes from the vampire’s face and felt how a silvery handle was placed in his hand. “Also check the other so that he isn’t awake. Tie him up better.”

“I’ve read that vampires can taste subtle differences in blood,” Sam informed the woman and nicked his finger as Castiel passed over to the man and checked for teeth.

“This one is human,” Castiel informed and retied the restraints.

“Ugh, demon blood,” Valentine scowled and held her face away, but Sam only pressed out a drop and forced his finger into her mouth before he quickly withdrew. Surprise fitted across her face as she tasted his blood and then licked at the blood that hadn’t entered her mouth.

“Human, delicious,” she stated and then licked her lips again, sucking up the last remnants of blood from her lips. Her eyes flickered to Castiel that was retying the man’s wrists, “but he’s a demon.”

Castiel glared back at the vampire and Sam shook his head.

“No, he’s not, but I have a question. Where did you get the angel blade?”

“The what?”

“The angel blade,” Sam stated and waved the weapon in front of her.

“That’s Nip, the demon’s bane,” she identified and glared at the angel, “we use it to kill demons. We’ve hunted and _killed_ 138 so far.”

“How did you find it?” Castiel wondered and sent a glance to the archangel that groaned the hunter’s name as he was unable to get the candy to his mouth.

“A hunter friend of ours gave it to us when he got to know that we specialize in demons,” she claimed and Sam frowned, wondering what kind of hunter it was.

“What’s his name?”

“No way I’m telling you, and some demon spawn.”

“How about this,” Sam stated and took back her attention, “I give you blood and you tell me who you got it from and then I give you more blood.” Her eyes focused in on him with a hunger that was common for all vampires.

“Sam, that could be dangerous,” Castiel opposed the idea.

“Yea, I know,” the hunter stated and returned the blade to the angel, “make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.” Sam placed his right hand on her neck, where a dark bruise was forming and held up his left wrist to her, seeing her eyes widen as the stranger actually went through with his plan.

“Now you bite me, _slowly_ ,” Sam commanded and could see the fangs extend as Valentine opened her mouth. The hunter was tense and ready to pull back his arm at any second. He grimaced as he felt the teeth sink into his skin and then felt how the vampire began to suck, much different than he’d seen other vampires feed; most of the vampires he’d seen had gone into a feeding frenzy, but this vampire calmly sucked at the wound with closed eyes and groaned. Sam pulled away his arm watching her eyes fly open and how she licked her lips.

“I haven’t had human blood for the past week, thank you,” Valentine sighed and kept her eyes on the blood that now was dripping down Sam’s arm.

“Why didn’t you go into a feeding frenzy?” the hunter wondered curiously while Valentine winced as she watched blood dripping to the ground; such a shame to lose every single drop.

“I’ve got self-control,” the woman stated and seemed upset with the growing puddle on the ground, “come on! This is torture! Don’t let it drip!”

“What’s the hunter’s name that got you the blade?” Sam questioned and clenched his left fist, causing more blood to fall to the ground.

“Fine, Robert Fors, now get over here before more blood drips!” Valentine pulled at her restraints as Sam didn’t move at first, “it’s dripping…”

Sam then let the vampire drink more from his arm and she visibly relaxed as she happily sucked at his arm for a while as he watched.

“What’s your name?” Sam questioned and pulled his arm away a bit, making the vampire wince.

“Valentine,” she claimed and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Your real name,” the hunter demanded.

“Valentine Ashdown, born 1847 to Cynthia and Walter Ashdown,” the vampire quickly ratted off and then leaned forward and began to suck on Sam’s arm with a content groan.

“So you’re…” Sam did the math in his head with a frown, “170 years old.”

“Mhm,” Valentine moaned around his arm and gently nodded.

“And your hunting partner, I’m going to guess, is also feeding you,” Sam stated and the woman nodded, “what’s his name?”

“James Carter,” she answered and quickly got back to sucking at the wound while a drop escaped her lips and rolled down her chin.

“What kind of human did your patriarch or matriarch bring home for you to feed on?” Sam wondered, thinking back to what he and Gabriel had discussed and the files that the Men of Letters had. Valentine looked up to the human that was feeding her and raised her eyebrows before shrugging.

“Nothing they had in common? Hair color? Eye color? Diet?” Sam tried but the vampire only shook her head, but then frowned.

“Well-trained, feisty ones,” she stated and Sam scowled as she licked at the wound, not particularly enjoying the feeding.

“Upper or lower class? Which tasted best?” the hunter wondered, remembering that the vampire was 170 years old.

“Upper class,” she stated and sucked on his arm for a while as Sam thought about it; upper class tended to eat more meat, but also more sugar.

“If a person smokes, can you taste it in their blood?” the hunter continued after a while and watched the vampire nod.

“Does it taste better or worse?”

“Worse,” she confessed, wondering why she wasn’t dead yet and why the hunter asked so many strange questions.

“What about blood types? Do you know that you prefer one over the other?”

 “No,” the vampire answered quickly and then gently bit down on the wound, making Sam pull away with a hiss.

“Ouch, what did you do that for?” Sam scowled at the now immensely bleeding wound.

“It almost stopped bleeding and I just wanted a little bit more, please,” Valentine squirmed as she watched the blood trickle, “rather than letting it drip on the ground, can I have it? You’re just wasting it now.”

“Fine, but don’t bite me again,” Sam stated and held up his arm for the vampire to feed.

“Thank you,” she groaned and eagerly sucked at his wrist with a rejuvenated spirit.

“Val?” James groaned as he slowly woke up. His eyes opened and then he jerked awake, looking around with an alarmed expression, “Val?” The man’s eyes ended up on Sam and the Winchester gave him an unsure smile as he looked between the happily feeding vampire and Sam.

“What’s going on?” James wondered and pulled a bit at the ropes, “kidnapping FBI-agents is not… Who the hell are you?”

“We know you’re hunters and not FBI-agents,” Sam stated and let the vampire feed, “we’re hunters too.”

“If you’re hunters then why haven’t you killed Val?” James questioned and watched disturbed how his kidnapper seemed so calm about it.

“We know a pack of werewolves,” Sam stated with a shrug and smiled, “you guys aren’t the only hunters out there.”

“Did you take care of the demon? Or meteorite? Or whatever it was that caused weird things to happen at the hospital?”

“Yea, we’ve got him,” Sam stated and made a head gesture to Gabriel that was chewing with his hand over his mouth, “sorry, I stole your M&Ms to give him.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” James shrugged and then frowned, “though, what is he? And why the kidnapping?”

“We thought that you might get in trouble if we just left you there,” Sam confessed with a smile and heard the familiar roar of the impala, “but we’re just outside the city, so if you just follow the road to the right you’ll get back in no time.”

“But what is he?” the man repeated himself and Sam shook his head, wondering what he was going to answer.

“He’s a pagan god,” Sam then confessed as the engine to the impala died off, “but he’s with us.”

“Oh…” James curiously stared at the archangel.

“What the hell, Sammy?!” the familiar voice of Dean called out as he watched what appeared to be the woman sucking on his brother’s arm.

“It’s okay, Dean, she’s just a vampire.”

“Okay?! She’s a vampire! Cas! Why didn’t you stop him?” Dean questioned as he got to the clearing and glared at the vampire that just glared back.

“I told him that it could be dangerous,” Castiel stated in a clear voice as Dean turned around and went back to the car with a ‘son of a bitch’ leaving his lips.

“Dean! I’m fine!” Sam insisted, but the older Winchester just sighed and opened the trunk to get a medical kit to patch up his damn brother. Dean yanked up the box and walked back into the grove.

“Damn it Sam, you know better than to feed vampires,” Dean chastised and got down on his knees before yanking Sam’s arm out of the vampire’s mouth. Valentine hissed angrily and bared her teeth at Dean, but then got a hold of herself and calmed down.

“Don’t you hiss at me, Fangbanger,” Dean growled back and started to wrap Sam’s wrist with bandages. “Now what the hell did I miss for this to happen?”

“I just got information from her,” Sam confessed as he let his brother take care of him.

“What kind of information?” his brother demanded to know as he gently took care of the wound.

“Well, they had an angel blade they got from a hunter named Robert Fors,” Sam informed as he watched his brother wrap the wound in bandages, “they were searching for a demon that was healing people in exchange for souls. Their names are Valentine Ashdown and James Carter. They’ve killed 138 demons so far. And I taste human.”

“Obviously, you taste human, you _are_ human!” Dean rolled his eyes and got up from the ground, making Sam give him a bitch-face.

“Maybe obvious to you…” Sam muttered as Dean helped him up from the ground and continued, “jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean answered on reflex and turned to Castiel, “get jay-lo. Yay or Nay on ganking miss vampire?”

“Nay,” Sam voted.

“Yay,” Castiel stated and made the hunters turn to him surprised, “she keeps calling me a demon.”

“Well, the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Dean stated and turned down to leer at the woman, “keep kicking demon-butt and get new badges. You have the wrong ones.” The older Winchester straitened up as the fake FBI-agents glared at him.

“We’re going.”

Castiel carried his mumbling brother to the car and gently placed him in the backseat as he got in. Dean stuffed the first aid kit in the back before getting in the driver seat and looking to his brother.

“ _Really_ , _Sammy?_ Feeding vampires now? Really?” Dean shook his head as he didn’t seem to be able to wrap his head around it and then took off with the impala.

“It was for research,” Sam defended himself and Dean shook his head again as he headed for the bunker. Finally, his family was whole again, even though he’d rather have the archangel not belonging to it. Gabriel had somehow wormed his way into Dean’s family, and that’s where he was staying.


	15. Fox’s Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby got candy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-16  
> Words: 4 200

As they drove towards Lebanon, Dean pulled in on a gas station to refuel and Sam got out of the car before heading inside the store. The younger Winchester stared at the large candy section and picked out a few different kinds before walking up to the register.

“Pump 3, and this,” Sam mumbled as he placed all the candy on the counter and turned to watch his brother through the window inside the empty station. Dean finished pumping the gas and the clerk specified the total. The hunter pulled out a wad of cash, counted the money and then threw some bills on the counter.

“Keep the change,” Sam stated and picked up the sugar-filled items before he headed out to the car and got in the front seat.

“Gabriel, do you want candy?” Sam grinned and turned around in his seat. Watching the archangel half-lie behind him while Castiel sat behind Dean. Sam threw the bag of skittles in Gabriel’s lap, making the archangel groan as his head fell forward and opened his eyes to stare at the candy. With sluggish movements, he grabbed the bag and then stared at it as the impala left the gas station.

“Eh,” Gabriel winched and held up the bag to his younger brethren.

“I don’t want it,” Castiel stated seriously and made the archangel groan.

‘ _Open it_ ,’ Gabriel whispered as quietly as he could in his true voice, afraid that there were angels like himself in heaven that enjoyed listening in on everyone. Castiel took the red bag in his hands, studied it and then ripped it open, only for candy to fall everywhere.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean yelled and placed his foot on the brake, stopping quickly by the edge of the road.

“I am sorry, Dean,” Castiel said and narrowed his eyes at the half-empty bag, “I believe this to be a highly inadequate container.”

“Sam!” Dean yelled out and glared at his brother.

“ _What?_ ” Sam glared back even though he wanted to laugh and knew that his brother blamed him for buying the candy in the first place.

“There’s candy all over Baby!”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“This is all your fault!”

“Cas was the one who opened it!”

“You’re cleaning it up when we get home!”

“But according to our agreement, I’m only responsible for everything Gabriel does while you’re responsible for what Cas does,” Sam argued with a smirk and made his brother glare angrily at him.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled and drove out on the road, knowing that he really had agreed to that.

* * *

Three hours into the drive and several bags of candy later, Gabriel could have his eyes open and move a bit. He was still drowsy, but he could talk in a drained voice.

“So douchebag, what happened to you?” Dean wondered from the front seat and sent a glance back to the archangel.

“After the hellfire?” Gabriel droned and bit into the chocolate bar with a content expression.

“Exactly,” the older of the Winchesters muttered back.

“My oath started,” the trickster responded and yawned, “I flew to Virginia, drained my grace, fell asleep, woke up as I was attacked by a hellhound and a demon named Crowley-.”

“Wow! Wait! You were attacked by Crowley?!” Dean asked upset and stared at the trickster through the rear-view mirror.

“Yea, I know that you know him,” Gabriel made a dismissive wave with his hand, “we had a nice chat, then he and that poodle left. Then I tried to head for the bunker but fell asleep-.”

“And he just left after a chat?” Dean continued disbelieving.

“No, of course not. He trapped me in holy fire, I trapped him in a devil’s trap. We made a deal and I let him go, which reminds me… Cas, the leviathans are gathering in small groups, fighting each other, but you should blow it out from the gates that it’s dangerous to approach a leviathan. Tell the angels still out there to keep a lookout and be careful. If they see a leviathan, they can report in without consequences.”

“I can do that,” Castiel smiled, happy that Gabriel was giving out orders; it meant that he was accepting his role as a leader.

“Great, just great!” Dean complained irritated and sighed in the front seat.

“What?” Sam asked curiously.

“We’ve got an angel that’s leaking mojo, and an archangel that’s out of angel-mojo! We’re team diaper-angel!”

“Gabriel is recharging grace constantly,” Castiel informed, untouched by the pique, “he’s probably using and recharging at the same time. He’s indeed week, but after the hellfire and the fall it is to be expected.”

“I thought you could just heal yourselves in a moment,” Sam remarked with a frown.

“We can, but the wings are more complicated. The longer we work on them the more gracious they become, and he’s regrowing real feathers instead of creating fake ones.”

“So he’s just vain,” Dean muttered as he turned the car in to the small gravel road, happy that they soon were home.

“How are your wings?” Sam wondered from the front seat and saw the angel turn his face away; shame, Castiel felt ashamed of his wings.

“Appalling; they’re the wings of a fallen angel,” Castiel informed quietly.

“Didn’t all angels fall?” Dean wondered.

“Yes, but they have grace. They are healing.”

“We’ll find your grace,” Sam stated, but the look Castiel gave him made him realize that they weren’t even looking, “I meant; it’s probably in heaven. Metatron probably wouldn’t just throw it away. The angels will find it.”

* * *

Sam frowned to himself in the front seat as he looked out the window; could it be that not all of Castiel’s grace had been used in the magic spell? He’d read somewhere that the stronger the magic the more likely it was for the ingredients to remain intact as long as it wasn’t burnt. What if Castiel’s grace wasn’t in heaven and had really fallen to Earth?

“Cas?” Sam spoke up as Dean parked outside the bunker and the angel hummed, “what was the ingredients to throw the angels out of heaven?”

“Why would you want to know?” Castiel wondered as he got out and Sam shrugged, not really having an answer for it.

“I was wondering how strong the spell was,” he then confessed as he got out of the car and made the angel nod. Dean ignored their conversation as he picked out their bags and then headed for the bunker.

“It was a very strong spell, and to my knowledge it consisted of only three ingredients; the heart of a Nephilim, the bow of a cupid, and the grace of an angel,” Castiel informed as he watched how Sam opened the door for Gabriel and Dean disappeared inside.

“That’s some rare ingredients. Did he burn them?” Sam questioned as Gabriel tried to get out of the car only to collapse in the gravel.

“I do not know how he prepared them as he took my grace and banished me to Earth before he finished the spell,” Castiel grumbled and left while Sam gave the angel an apologetic stare. He hadn’t meant to bring up painful memories and being betrayed wasn’t very happy memories. He just hadn’t thought ahead.

“A little help?” a voice asked and a hand grabbed into Sam’s pants, making the hunter look down to the archangel and sigh.

“Sure,” Sam agreed and picked up the limp angel.

“So, Samsquatch, what was that about?” Gabriel wondered as Sam gently let him go, only for him to stumble and the hunter to catch him.

“I read somewhere that the stronger ingredients a magic spell has, the less likely they are to be destroyed,” Sam confessed as he helped the archangel steady himself, “for an example, phoenix feathers won’t be destroyed until they are burnt and mixed with the rest of the ingredients. All anyone has to do is wash them in a special way and they can reuse them, I was thinking that it might be the same with angelic grace…”

“Hmm… not quite. Grace would be like the water binding the spell together, but I doubt that the cupid’s bow would’ve been destroyed,” Gabriel thought and grabbed a hold into Sam’s arm as the hunter slowly walked beside him, “if we can find it we might find pieces of Cassie’s grace. That’s what you’re thinking of, right?”

“Yea, kind of.”

“Sneaky little hunter; you wanna find Cassie’s grace by yourself, don’t you?” Gabriel heckled with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” the hunter muttered and led the archangel inside, “I just want to find it, and he’s given up a lot for us.”

“Here’s what we’ll do, Gigantor,” Gabriel grinned and leaned in close, brushing his chest to Sam’s arm with a smirk, “I’ll do my research and you do yours. Find out where every angel fell. I’m talking coordinates for every impact. I’ll try to get Cassie to tell me everything about that spell. We’ll find that cupid’s bow and with the help of the grace on the bow we’ll be able to search for any remnants there are. How about it? First to the bow wins?”

“You’re on, I’m good at research,” Sam grinned and continued to help the trickster inside where he pushed him into the couch, making the archangel give up a surprised gasp.

The hunter then returned to the car to help his brother clean it out; it was Sam that had bought the candy after all and he did feel partially responsible.

* * *

Gabriel was riding a sugar high as he eagerly rustled around in his bed that evening and then crawled underneath the cover; he couldn’t wait to dream again. He twisted a bit and then felt how warmth started to envelop him. The egg had nearly suckled him dry, but now it seemed that it had calmed down considerably as it was just nursing from his grace gently.

The archangel turned around, snuggled into the soft pillow and relaxed. He smiled happily at the drowsy feeling, remembering the other times when he’d carried. Fenris had been the first. It was a snowy day in February. Gabriel had been cranky because the others were making fun of how short he was, but what they didn’t know was that his true form could squash them all. When he made his vessel during the Greek Bronze Age he had been of ordinary height. Odin knew though, knew how strong he was, knew how big he really was, knew that he was something else entirely; he’d seen Gabriel’s true form through his mind’s eye. Odin didn’t have the word ‘angel’, but by sharing blood with Odin Gabriel had become an official pagan; son of Odin, but before he was a son, he was an uncle to Thor. Family ties among pagans could be complicated.

Gabriel had left Valhalla and Asgard after a celebratory feast in Vali’s honor, slightly drunk from the mead. He was somewhere in a mountain in a place that would in the future be called Norway. He didn’t care much for where he was. Storm raged around him, fueled by his frustration. He’d even yelled at all the other pagans, calling them names and telling them that they are hypocrites. He loved his new family, but sometimes he just got an insane need to put them in place, and that was why he’d left; he didn’t want to do something stupid and gain their fear. Walking in the thick snow was grueling, but after a while his anger had melted away to be replaced with loneliness. Why couldn’t he let them have fun at his expense? Sure, they deserved a punishment for it, but only something small, something annoying. Sif was very proud of her hair, so she was going to get a haircut, at least that he knew.

The archangel’s sensitive ears heard something in the forest clothed mountain and he strained his ears; a small cry reached them. Wondering what it was, Gabriel headed towards it, finding a female wolf with an arrow in her side. She’d given birth to a litter of wolves before she died, all of which had frozen to death in the snow, but stuck inside her a male puppy cried out. Only the puppy’s head was out of her so he’d survived the cold by absorbing the warmth of his dead mother’s body.

“Hush, little one,” Gabriel had cooed and helped the wolf out, thinking he could raise it and then release it into the wild, but as he held the tiny wolf in his hands it took a last sigh before it died. Having already thought of everything that he was going to teach the wolf he grew disappointed and sad; feelings he didn’t particularly enjoy. He knew that he and his celestial brethren had the ability to carry eggs, but what he was thinking was something no one had ever tried.

Getting ahold of his grace, Gabriel forced the tiny heart of the creature to beat and created a fake womb around it before he incased it in an angelic egg. He hoped that none of his brothers would ever find out what he’d done. The wolf would become a perverse being; half angel, half wolf. Heck, angels weren’t allowed to reproduce with humans, what would the Host say if they ever found this out?

Gabriel had taken the egg inside his pouch and felt a soothing gratification fill him. He’d then walked halfway down the mountain before he fell asleep from the drainage of his grace. A hunting viking, Bjarke, had found him, believed that he was dead, but been surprised when his skin was still warm. Believing that he’d found a recently collapsed fellow viking, he had brought him to his hunting cabin. Gabriel had woken up to the smell of meat roasting above a fire and grown confused, but he happily accepted food from the kind stranger.

Three weeks Gabriel had stayed with Bjarke, but it was then that a fierce thunder storm struck the mountain in the middle of winter. It had come as quickly as it had vanished and Gabriel knew exactly who it was that was nearby. He had happily ignored it in favor of telling the man that the gods weren’t angry with him. Then Thor had shown up; a giant of a man with a fiercely red beard and with a scowl on his face, reinforcing Bjarke’s belief that the gods truly were mad with him.

“Brother!” Thor had boomed and Gabriel had rolled his eyes, “where have you been? We’ve been searching everywhere for you!”

It was then Gabriel had gotten to know that he’d been missing for six weeks and they were missing him at the preparations for the feast of Ostara. He’d thanked Bjarke for his hospitality and had then headed in Thor’s wagon back to Valhalla. Gabriel had grown weak and Thor had looked after him, worried that he was dying. Just after the egg stopped nursing from his grace he’d brought it out into the world. Gabriel had been sleeping in Thor’s bed and had yelled eagerly when the shell began to crack. Both Sif and Thor had come running and had surprised watched how the large egg cracked to reveal a wolf pup, larger than normal and glowing bright blue.

The second time, Gabriel had collapsed in front of all the other pagans in Valhalla. Thor had brought him home, but Gabriel’s own home was desolate and cold, so he’d walked with Fenris back to Sif and Thor’s home and they had crawled into their bed. At that time, he’d carried Jormungand, a snake, just as an experiment to see what would happen if he encased a live creature. Jormungand was hatched as a healthy, but enormous snake, much to Gabriel’s glee.

The third time, a few years later, he carried a little girl he’d found frozen in the snow. This time he couldn’t revive her, but he encased her anyway to see what would happen. A little baby girl would later hatch. Half her body was white as newly fallen snow, while her other half was black. Gabriel loved her from the moment he saw her and named her Hel, meaning whole. Gabriel loved his children dearly. He was happy as he raised them in Asgard. He couldn’t have been happier when all his children were intelligent and began to talk. Thinking that he could increase his family later, he encased a horse, but as he grew weaker and slept during the night, the other gods came and took his children from him.

They threw 10-year-old Hel into the Underworld Niflheim to govern the souls of the dead, a truly desolate and lonely place. They threw 14-year-old Jormungand into the middle of the Atlantic, not knowing that he could swim, and they threw the 15-year-old Fenris in a dungeon to bind him in chains. As soon as Gabriel woke up he was surprised to be alone, but once he found out what had happened he got angry in a way that he’d never experienced before. He’d stopped carrying the horse. Regained strength for a day. He’d picked up Hel first, and had to comfort the child before he left her alone to find Jormungand and Fenris. Gabriel planned to murder every one of the gods that he’d once called family, but he was weak and then Thor’s wife Sif, who was the first he approached had inadvertently let it slip that Baldur was the one to convince the others that Loki’s children were monsters and should be dealt with as monsters.

Baldur had used his powers to convince the others. Gabriel just knew it. The reason everyone liked Baldur was because he used his powers to make them like him, but it didn’t work on Gabriel. They had a heated relationship because of it. Gabriel was the only one that could resist Baldur’s magic, and Gabriel knew that if he killed the god right out then everyone would turn against him and he might be ostracized. A devious plan formed in Gabriel’s mind and he tried to get other gods to kill the precious Baldur, and he almost succeeded when he got Hodr to throw a spear, laced with crushed mistletoe at him.

* * *

Gabriel shivered of anger at the memories of almost losing his children, but he had a fake Fenris chained in Asgard, and fake Hel watching over souls. Jormungand lived most of his time in the oceans, while Fenris was somewhere on Iceland and Hel in Japan. All of his children had a human form and a beast form and Gabriel was happy as long as they were safe. And finally, Baldur was dead.

The archangel turned around in the bed, unable to fall asleep, so in the middle of the night he got up and staggered to the library to begin interrogating Castiel about everything he’d done.

* * *

“What time is it?” Gabriel interrupted the seraph’s monologue as he heard steps in the staircase.

“4:35,” Castiel responded as Dean showed up beside the war room and headed into the kitchen. After a few minutes, Dean showed up again and headed downstairs with a cup of coffee.

“Well, then Cas, you can continue. Tell me everything,” Gabriel smirked and heard the seraph hum.

“Well, I had become human and had to choose to eat or to have clean clothes,” Castiel began and Gabriel listened and he closed his eyes, happy to hear his brother’s voice.

* * *

Days passed by and Gabriel grew more exhausted, confused as to why he couldn’t fall asleep again. He was missing something. Why had he been able to sleep at Thor’s place and not here? Gabriel wandered the line of consciousness as he lay in the couch, too tired to move to his room and yet unable to fall asleep. Castiel had stopped talking as he’d spoken about everything he’d done the past years since he began training to pull Dean out of purgatory and was worriedly watching over his brother that seemed to be in worse condition than himself.

Gabriel groaned as the couch shifted a bit and then felt how someone gently picked up his head. Opening one of his eyes, he saw Dean and felt how a pillow was tucked under his head, making him sigh in approval and smile.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, but I don’t like it,” Dean’s voice stated as the TV turned on and Gabriel smirked; if Dean-o knew that he was pregnant his attitude would certainly change. Dean had a soft side he too.

* * *

Gabriel stared emptily ahead of himself. He was lying on the couch and listening to the sounds of Sam turning a book and Castiel speaking with angels as he governed them. The angels were mostly happy that he was their leader, but some opposed him for selfish reasons; they wanted to be the leader. Gabriel smiled groggily as he heard an angel sing lowly to themselves. It was a long time since he heard anyone sing in heaven.

‘ _Listen Cassie_ ,’ Gabriel whispered in his true voice, too lowly for any human to hear him.

‘ _Listen for what?_ ’ Castiel wondered back.

‘ _Someone’s singing,_ ’ the archangel closed his eyes and listened to the lonely angel sing a joyful song while Castiel turned to the couch with a concerned frown; no angel was singing. Gabriel was hallucinating.

‘ _Yes, it’s_ _beautiful_ ,’ Castiel then lied, knowing that the archangel couldn’t see his lie in his halo.

‘ _Yes, I miss singing_ ,’ Gabriel hummed from the couch, gently singing along with the song that he heard for a while.

Gabriel yawned again, feeling how his entire body seemed to just melt into the couch. He’d done good with the couch. It was a nice addition to the library and it was nice to be able to listen in on Sam’s movements. The hunter had gotten up and made himself a cup of coffee. Gabriel could smell the beverage as the human returned. Sam placed the cup on the table and then sat down, only to sigh and get up. The hunter walked out of the library and down the stairs. Gabriel wondered if he was going to talk to his brother.

He was living in a tired haze and then opened his eyes as he heard the human’s steps in the stairs again after a while. Red, shiny. The human was carrying something large and red. Gabriel thought no further of the matter as his eyes closed on their own. He was too tired. But as Sam walked up to the couch and then gently tucked the archangel in, Gabriel opened his eyes and groaned; Sam had collected his cover.

“How are you?” Sam wondered and crouched down, seeing that the celestial being wasn’t able to focus on him with his eyes.

“Mh-ff,” Gabriel groaned and felt gentle hands on his cheek, brushing away his hair and then took his temperature on his forehead.

“You’re not fine if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Sam stated and Gabriel closed his eyes, marveling at how wonderful it felt to be taken care of, just like Thor and Sif had done, “your lips are dry. Are you thirsty?”

Gabriel’s eyes opened as he thought of the question and then realized that yes, he was thirsty; such a strange sensation.

“Yea,” it was more of a whine than anything, but Sam just nodded and walked out the library. Sam returned soon with a glass of water and placed it down on the table. The hunter gently pulled up the angel from the couch and sat down so that Gabriel could lean against him. Sam brought the glass to the archangel’s lips and watched him slowly drink the clear liquid.

“Gabriel wants you to know that he appreciates what you’re doing,” Castiel suddenly spoke up and Sam turned to the table.

“Oh,” Sam turned back and realized that the two angels could probably communicate easier between each other, “just be okay, Gabriel.”

The trickster finished half the glass of water and then felt how he was laid down in Sam’s lap. The hunter turned on the TV and absentmindedly caressed his fingers through Gabriel’s hair.

Gabriel hummed approvingly and closed his eyes with a smile on his lips.

* * *

Gabriel opened his eyes. It was dark. The TV was off and he was alone on the couch. Somewhere behind him he could hear the falling angel speaking with the others in heaven and Gabriel moved an arm, making the automatic lights come on. He turned to lie on his back and felt rejuvenated. He smiled at the fact that he’d actually fallen asleep. Maybe that was what he needed? Another person. The archangel yawned and realized that he’d always had Thor and Sif sleeping in the same bed, and Bjarke had only had one bed, and when he was at home he’d had Fenris and Jormungand, and later Hel. Maybe it was because angels were supposed to have a mate to watch over them?

The trickster sat up and sent a glance to the seraph, making Castiel turn to him.

“Congratulations on getting to sleep,” Castiel tilted his head, curious over why his brother was sleeping in the first place.

“Yeay, me!” Gabriel grinned at the angel and got up, almost stable on his legs, and headed into the kitchen to raid his candy-drawer.


	16. Twenty Winks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wing-cuddling not allowed. Gabriel pretends to be an angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-17  
> Words: 3 700

For about a day, Gabriel had his strength back, but then during the evening he began to feel drowsy again. He collapsed into the couch beside Dean, receiving a distrustful glance from the hunter that was sitting with Sam’s tablet, searching for a new case while watching a rerun of Dr. Sexy MD.

For a moment, Gabriel considered cuddling up against the hunter, but he didn’t think Dean would appreciate it and Castiel might not like it either because of their bond. If Dean just got the stick out of his butt he might realize that his soul wanted Castiel, which was why Castiel had marked the man’s soul as his, and Gabriel didn’t doubt for a second that Dean would’ve been all over Castiel if he’d had a female vessel, attractive or not.

Curious, Gabriel reached out his wing and held it around Dean, trying to sense his soul. Dean was supposed to have the most brilliantly shining soul, but Castiel had inscribed the Winchesters’ bones with a protection so that the angels couldn’t find them by flying over them. Sam’s soul was supposed to be so dark that the angels couldn’t see it, but Castiel had engraved Sam’s bones too. The reason Castiel always had landed so close to Dean was because Sam was hard to see and landing inside a live human meant death for the human. Gabriel had never seen Dean’s soul, but he was curious to see if he could feel it radiate.

Gabriel flexed his wing, moving it back and forth to feel if he could get a sense of the rays on his wing.

“What are you doing?” Castiel suddenly asked and Gabriel grinned as he turned around at the same time as Dean.

“What?” Dean asked the angel and realized that Castiel wasn’t looking at him. Dean quickly got up from the couch and stared suspiciously at the archangel.

“I’m just feeling for his soul?” Gabriel confessed with a smirk to the angel that was being territorial and then turned to the hunter, “Cassie says that you have a brilliant soul, but he has hidden it from angels so I can’t see it. I was wondering if I could sense it with my wing.”

“With your wing? What were you doing with your wing?” Dean asked warily and narrowed his eyes as Gabriel sighed.

“I just held it open to sense for your soul. Nothing weird.”

“Don’t do it! No weird wing-cuddling with me!” Dean frowned and then slowly sat down, still suspicious of the archangel.

“Sure, I promise to not wing-cuddle you,” Gabriel smirked at the word and held his hands in a surrender, “and Cassie can tell you if I do anything weird with my wings.”

Dean slowly relaxed as he returned to search for a case. Gabriel waited the entire night to fall asleep, but was unable to. As Sam got up to the library in the morning, he stopped by the couch to see if Gabriel was sleeping, but the archangel opened his eyes and yawned. Thinking that it was okay, Sam turned on the morning news and then sat down beside his computer. The day was spent in silence with Sam doing whatever he was doing and Castiel governing the angels. Gabriel wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he needed to test out his hypothesis that he needed another person, by trying to sleep alone. He turned from side to side, but then Sam sat down on the couch and Gabriel looked up as the hunter jumped between the channels.

Remembering what he’d done to Dean the day before, Gabriel reached out one of his wings and curled it around Sam, immediately catching a heat on his wings. The soul’s soothing radiation immediately made him relax and pull his wing back; even if Sam’s soul was truly dark, at least it radiated warmly.

As the day passed, Gabriel became exhausted and he sat on the couch groaning, wondering if he was going to give up his test.

Gabriel felt his head drop again and his body slumped, he knew the feeling from when he’d fallen asleep before, but still his mind was active and unable to relax. He forced his body up again and felt how unsteady his muscles were. He was intrigued; he felt as though he should be asleep by now.

 _‘Cassie?_ ’ he questioned groggily and heard the younger angel close in on him from his right. _‘Could you do me a favor?’_

“What do you need, Gabriel?” a pair of worried, blue eyes appeared in front of the archangel as Castiel crouched down in front of him and Gabriel weakly patted the couch beside himself.

“Lay down,” the trickster requested and watched how the fallen angel did as he wanted without questioning. Castiel sent him a confused stare as Gabriel forced himself up and then buried himself into the narrow space between the back of the couch and the now tense seraph.

Gabriel knew that the angel was anxious and uneasy with their closeness, so he did everything slowly, making sure that Castiel had the opportunity to protest or push him away. The archangel relaxed with his head above his younger brother’s heart and slowly withdrew his large, golden wings from his body. He carefully placed three of them over the seraph’s chest like a protective shield of soft gold. Gabriel sent a glance up, seeing that Castiel was blushing at his tender action, but wasn’t protesting.

He smiled as he felt the grace of an angel so close to him, accepting his friendly action, and went further, gradually moving his wings towards Castiel’s charred and damaged ones. The younger angel was only blushing and staring straight forward, as if paralyzed with shock. Their wings softly touched and Gabriel affectionately started to purr and let his emotions shine from his halo. He didn’t know if it was the purring or the halo, but something made Castiel relax and reciprocate by moving his wings closer and then wrapping their tails together.

To the content purring of his younger brother Gabriel finally fell asleep, unconsciously wrapping all of his wings around the seraph. They were no longer defined nor separated by their status as archangel and seraph; they were now close friends and they had once again become _family_.

Castiel felt how the archangel’s consciousness slipped deeper into his vessel and heard how Gabriel seemingly fell asleep, but that wasn’t possible; angels didn’t sleep unless dying, and Gabriel was far from dying. But he had said that he was supposed to fall asleep. The gentle and restful grace of the archangel was welcomingly radiating at him, filling him with warmth and made him wrap his arms around the older angel.

The falling angel’s lips started to smile as he felt the soft wings of Gabriel twitch in his sleep and let his eyes close to rest. Castiel technically was awake as he rested, and every now and again spoke with the celestials in heaven.

* * *

A hand pushed Sam violently and the hunter flew up, ready to attack whoever it was, but as he registered his brother’s face and a finger across Dean’s lips he only glared, mentally asking what he wanted at five in the morning. The older Winchester backed away with a grin and gestured for him to follow. Sam knew by the smile that there was nothing wrong, but by the amusement in his eyes that he was up to something. Dean made and urgent motion with his hand and mimed the words ‘Come on!’ before he quickly moved to the doorway and waited.

Sam knew that he wouldn’t get any more sleep with his brother up to no good so he threw the cover away and got up, following Dean through the corridor and sneaked as quietly as he could up the stairs behind the older hunter.

As they got upstairs to the main floor, Dean turned around and pressed a finger to his lips before pointing towards the library and crept around the corner, shadowed by his curious brother. Before they’d reached the library, Sam could see what it was that his brother wanted to show him; both of the angels were sleeping peacefully on the couch with their arms wrapped around each other. What the humans, however, were unable to see where the wings, halos and tails of the celestials.

Dean grinned as if he was having the time of his life as he stopped beside the couch and Sam gave him a confused look, seeing Dean roll his eyes and placed a hand behind his ear, making a motion for his younger brother to listen. Sam could clearly hear the purring, but it wasn’t until he listened that he heard that both of the angels were purring; it was weird, but what was exciting about that? Sam gave his brother another confused look, seeing that it annoyed him.

‘Cas’ Dean mimed and drew a large smile on his own face before miming, ‘happy!’ The revelation that Dean was so thrilled over Castiel’s happiness made Sam grin at his brother’s antics.

‘Happy!’ the older Winchester mimed again, even more excited as he’d finally gotten his brother to understand.

‘Yea’ Sam mimed back with a nod, copying his brother’s enthusiasm even though he had no idea why he was supposed to be thrilled about it; it was great that the angel was happy, but Dean didn’t have to wake him up to stand and point at the angel.

‘Happy’ Dean mimed again and then Sam’s newly awakened brain finally kicked in; Castiel had lost everything because of them and was even dying, yet with Gabriel in his arms he was happily purring; something he’d never done with only the hunters around. Sam grinned as he looked down, but twitched as a pair of confused, blue eyes stared back at him; they were caught. The fallen angel raised a finger to his mouth, hushing the two hunters before looking down to the quietly snoring archangel and closed his eyes again.

The hunters shared a horrified glance before they slowly went out the library, sneaking away to pretend that they’d never gotten caught ogling angels.

* * *

Gabriel yawned as he woke up and then snuggled closer to the sound of purring from his angelic brethren. The tapping of computer keys made him realize that there was at least one hunter inside the library, sitting by the table.

“Thank you, Cassie,” Gabriel murmured and then unwrapped their tails.

“Is this what you needed to fall asleep?” Castiel wondered curiously and got a nod as an answer.

“I think so,” the archangel murmured and got up. He stretched and then headed into the kitchen to raid his candy-drawer. As he bowed down he felt the egg stop nursing and he grew almost panicked, but then it continued again and Gabriel relaxed. It was probably time to get it some nurturing from the feathers he’d pulled out.

The archangel headed downstairs and into his room where he filled in a groove in the mirror with beeswax, nothing seemed to happen but as Gabriel placed his hand in the mirror his hand seemed to sink in slightly, only for him to be transported into his secret storage.

As he pulled away his hand he turned around and faced the library in his storage. Enormous bookshelves filled the area, containing books and scrolls with spells and history. The place was lit in a dusky glow from the undersides of the shelves, giving it an ominous feeling, but as Gabriel allowed his wings to materialize and took flight the light in the room became clearer. He went up, ignoring the broad passageway that separated the shelves. The ceiling was high to allow easy flight and he only had a few items on the top, so he could land wherever he wanted. Wide, circular openings above the doorways enabled him to fly from room to room.

He flew around the area, enjoying the free feeling of his unrestrained wings even though he could feel himself tire quickly. He found himself in the nest he’d made for the egg in a well-protected room and rearranged the mountain of reddish golden feathers that he’d pulled out.

With a grin, he rearranged the feathers into a large nest with a small pyramid of feathers in the middle before he got inside it and pushed the egg out. Happily, he saw that the egg had a healthy, bright blue color and then pushed it into the pyramid of feathers.

“There you go little one, nurse from the feathers for a while, papa has to go and get something, and you’ll be safer here.”

* * *

Gabriel had hesitated on leaving the egg in the bunker, but he had important business to take care of, so after he found the copper syringe inside one of the storages he told the Winchesters that he was going for a walk outside. He knew the city, he knew the college, he knew the name. She wasn’t going to be hard to find.

* * *

A platinum blonde woman hummed a bit as she entered the gates to one of the college’s apartment buildings. She greeted a neighbor that was heading out and then went inside her room. The student dropped the bag just beyond the door and entered the bathroom, missing how something was awry in her room. She looked herself in the mirror, to see if her make-up was the way it should be and then exited.

“Claire Novak, right?” a voice asked as she closed the door to the toilet and made her jump, but she immediately saw the dark-blond man that was sitting by her desk. She was disturbed that the stranger was there as her roommate was out of town that week, but what made it ten times worse was that he was reading her roommate’s diary.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?” Claire demanded to know in a hiss as she took an aggressive stance ready for a fight, but the man ignored her and turned a page.

“Put that _down!_ ”

The blond man dropped the diary as fast as if it had bitten him and held his hands in the air, surrendering, but then grinned like there was no tomorrow.

“Feisty. You’re definitely Claire,” the man shifted into a relaxed position and popped something into his mouth, “actually, we’re pretty much family.”

“Explain, before I taser you, _or after_ ,” the student threatened as she pulled out the weapon from her pocket and saw the stranger shake his head with amusement and then swallowed whatever he’d been chewing on.

“I’m Castiel’s older brother,” the man answered with a grin.

“Aw, _crap_ ,” Claire looked disgusted and shoved the taser back into her pocket, guessing that it wouldn’t work, “another freaking angel. What the hell do _you_ want?”

“ _Arch_ angel,” Gabriel corrected her with a wagging finger, “baby-bro’s in trouble and I want to ask you for your help.”

“Castiel is?” she asked worriedly, walking the few steps to the table doubling as a desk and pulled out the second chair before she sat down, “what kind of trouble?”

“He’s dying; a slow painful death,” Gabriel answered solemnly, “but you have something that might be able to help him.”

“He looked fine last time I saw him-, what’s wrong with him?”

“He’s losing the grace he has, and he needs his own.”

“I’m just going to pretend that I understood that,” Claire stated confused, “what do you need from me?”

“Well, every time an angel possesses someone and then leaves, they leave behind a piece of their grace. You still carry a piece of Castiel’s grace within you. I only need a little bit of it, not all of it,” Gabriel explained patiently; if it wasn’t for the fact that his brother cared for the human he would’ve knocked her unconscious and taken a bit of it without her ever being the wiser, but she had to be aware that she’d lost some of the grace in case Sam remembered that she was possessed and got the same plan that Gabriel had.

“But he never possessed me!” the woman stated with a frown, trying to remember what had happened all those years ago.

“Yes, he did, you just don’t remember it. It had to be a traumatic experience so your brain has probably blocked out as much of it as possible,” the archangel stated with a nod.

“Okay, I don’t believe you, but if it’s for that buffoon. What do I have to do?” Claire wondered and surprised Gabriel with her willingness, “wait, does it hurt?”

“A bit.”

“That’s not comforting coming from an angel. How painful?”

“The touch of a needle,” Gabriel stated and took out the copper colored syringe, making the young woman’s eyes widen.

“ _That_ thing?” she asked horrified.

“Oh, come on, it could be worse,” Gabriel huffed and waved his hand, “avoid a needle or save Castiel’s life.”

“What if I say no?” Claire wondered and Gabriel grinned, knowing that with the way she was looking at him she was just testing him.

“Well, I think you can handle the truth; if you say no I’ll strap you down and take it by force,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“So asking is some kind of formality since you don’t need consent, like possession?”

“No, I’m just trying to be nice, _trying,_ ” Gabriel confessed with a wink to the displeased human, “if you’d met an angel, other than Castiel, you’d know that they are dicks, but _don’t tell them I told you that_.” Claire’s lips twitched a bit at his ‘joke’ and then nodded with a scowl.

“So in angel-term Castiel is a really nice guy… Sure, stab away,” she said and held out her arm.

“It goes in your neck,” he informed and watched her grimace.

“Fine, whatever. Is it better if I lay down on my bed?” Claire asked and got up as she received a nod. Gabriel took the needle and got down on his knees to better see what he was doing. Carefully, he inserted the point, hearing the human gasp and try to stay quiet.

“Scream and struggle if you have to, no one will hear you and you won’t be able to move,” Gabriel said in a calm voice and pushed the point deeper while Claire went from growling to howling as the pain increased. The magic spell on the syringe was pulling the grace from all over her body. Her muscles were twitching as she wanted to get away from the syringe, but the trickster used his power to hold her neck and head still, allowing her to kick and twist as much as she wanted. As he got the needle where he wanted it he stopped pushing it and Claire relaxed. With slow movements, he pulled the plunger back, ignoring Claire’s gasps and screams, and saw how a bluish-white light entered the barrel. Carefully, and bit by bit, he filled up more and more of the barrel. With a small smile he pulled the needle out and got up.

“There,” Gabriel grinned at the awe that was evident in Claire’s eyes.

“That was _in_ me?” she asked and shook her head as she sat up, touching her neck and got a bit of blood on her hand, “it’s beautiful.”

“You’ve still got more in you,” Gabriel said as he got up from the floor and took a small black crystal from his pocket. He whispered in Enochian and let a drop of grace exit the needle. The light travelled to the crystal and lit it up. With a grin he shook the crystal, seeing it light up some more as the grace was disturbed and then set into a magically glowing crystal.

“Congratulations, you’ve survived angel-possession,” the archangel said as he held out the crystal to the human, “here’s your trophy.”

Claire carefully took it, almost afraid that it would burn her, but it only felt slightly tingling and comfortingly warm, but she wanted it. She had never wanted anything that much, it was as though she instinctively knew that it was a part of her.

“Won’t you need this?” she asked while Gabriel looked into the container. It wasn’t enough to restore Castiel’s grace, but it could be used to find the rest of it, _if_ there was more.

“Nah, this will have to do. Cassie would murder me if I injured you,” he said and pointed down to the crystal in her hands, “whatever you do, _don’t_ lose that. Your crystal will act as a waypoint for me.”

“ _Never_ ,” Claire promised disturbed by the thought and then watched as the archangel headed for the door. “Hey!” she called out, “what’s your name?” Gabriel turned around, smiling a bit.

“Michael,” he said, just like he always did when he pretended to be an angel, and then realized that she might try to contact the others, “don’t tell anyone I was here. Cassie doesn’t think he deserves to live. He’d probably try to fight me if he knew I was doing this.” Gabriel sighed deeply. “I’ve lost so many of my brothers. I can’t bear to lose Cassie too, so please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t, Michael, I promise,” she said and as she blinked the angel was gone. She hadn’t heard the door open nor any other sound; he just wasn’t there anymore. And if it wasn’t for the small prick on her neck and the crystal she would’ve been certain that she imagined it all.

* * *

Gabriel grinned happily as he opened the door to the bunker and fell inside; he was exhausted by flying all the way to Los Angeles, but at least now he didn’t have the egg draining him.

“Gabriel?!” Sam’s voice cut through his happy haze and he was faced with an angry Winchester in the hallway.

“Yo! Samsquatch,” Gabriel greeted with a grin, unfazed by the frustration that seemed to radiate off of the young human.

“ _A walk_ does not last for _five hours_! We thought something had happened to you again!”

“No worries,” the trickster walked up to the hunter and gave him a hug, “no worries!”

“Gabriel!” Sam pealed the archangel off of him and stared at the exhausted angel, “how are we supposed to make sure your safe if you just up and vanish?!”

“I’ll get a phone,” Gabriel smirked and snapped his fingers, conjuring up a phone. Sam glared at the phone and then sighed as Gabriel staggered away.


	17. Building Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Gabriel bond. Castiel lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-18  
> Words: 4,000

During the evening, Gabriel lay on the couch and stared at himself with a handheld mirror of silver. Sam had seen him bring it out of his inner pocket, but the mirror was way too big to fit inside his jacket without being seen. The hunter decided to ignore it to the best of his abilities and continued with his search for a case.

“Yo, Sammy,” Dean called out as he entered the library with the tablet that he hated, “I think we might have a case.”

“Oh?” Sam responded and looked up to see Dean staring at archangel with a disturbed expression.

“ _The fuck are you doing?_ ” the older Winchester wondered and made the trickster send a glance to him.

“What?” Gabriel played stupid.

“Is that a smoking mirror?” Dean growled and made the angel grin impressed, but he didn’t have time to react before Dean dropped the tablet, threw himself over the angel and yanked the mirror out of his hands. The older hunter placed the mirror with its face down on the floor before glaring at the archangel.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t you know that _every single_ _pagan_ will know our location if you’re using that mirror!”

“Relax, Dean-o, that’s _my_ mirror that I use to spy on other pagans. It only works one way,” Gabriel waved nonchalantly, “it’s not smoking now, is it?”

“Smoking mirrors do not smoke,” Dean stated angrily and Gabriel clapped his hands.

“And what exactly do smoking mirrors do?”

“They shine!” Dean claimed, but then froze, realizing that the mirror he had pinned to the floor didn’t have any shine to it. He looked down and then slowly turned it around, seeing that the face of the mirror was completely dark. The mirror itself looked exactly like the one he’d seen his father save another hunter from, except this mirror’s face was completely black.

“What?” Dean stared, not remembering that it had been shining when he stole it from Gabriel’s grip.

“It’s a one-way mirror,” Gabriel claimed and sighed tiredly as he sat up. “It only picks up old messages floating through the fabric of reality. Think of it as a different frequency to angel radio, like TV signals are a different frequency compared to radio.” The angel got down on the floor where Dean was and placed the hunter’s hand around the shaft of the silvery mirror before holding it out before his face. “This one only picks up messages that are at least a day old, because I don’t want to be found.”

With a hand on the back of the mirror, Gabriel used his pagan powers to steer which message to show the hunter, choosing the message Kali had sent about the secret meeting where Lucifer had murdered everyone. The mirror’s face moved and Dean twitched as Kali’s voice began talking in his head before it showed the woman battered and bruised.

“There’s been a secret meeting between the Hindu, Nordic, Chinese, Greek, and Haitian pantheons to stop the Judeo-Christian apocalypse,” Kali’s voice explained inside Dean’s head as he curiously listened, “We were betrayed. Lucifer knew of the meeting. He slayed everyone. We were nothing to him. _Nothing!_ ” Kali sighed before she continued in a solemn voice. “These are the fatalities: Nordic. Odin. Baldur. Loki… Hindu. Ganesh… Haitian. Baron Samedi. Louisiana…” The image vanished as Gabriel released the mirror and then peeled it from the hunter’s hands.

“So why is it called a smoking mirror if it doesn’t smoke?” Sam wondered from his place by the table and watched how Gabriel threw himself into the couch again.

“Because the first mirrors were made from volcanic rock and did smoke when in use,” Gabriel explained while Dean went to pick up the tablet from the floor.

“What a lousy piece of junk,” Dean complained and showed the tablet to his younger brother, “the screen cracked.”

“Idiot, buy a new one,” Sam scowled, feeling a sting of loss; he liked that tablet.

“Meh,” Gabriel made a noise and waved his hand nonchalantly, using his celestial powers to mend the tablet as he wasn’t interested in hearing the brothers argue about money for the thousand time, which they inevitably would.

“Oh?” Sam blinked as he saw the cracks start to heal and put two and two together, “thanks Gabriel.”

Hearing Sam’s words, Dean turned the tablet over and saw the last of the cracks vanish.

“Oh?” Dean uttered and sent a glance to the archangel, but then shrugged and returned his attention to his brother.

“I think I found a case,” Dean continued what he’d been interested in from the start and saw that Sam was listening intently, “it’s in Colorado, White River National Forest, so it’s really close too. A bunch of people have gone missing and one just showed up eaten. It might be a wendigo.”

Sam nodded as he searched for news from White River National Forest seeing that there were 21 people missing that hadn’t returned on time and that there was a five-week-old body found near the two-day trek.

“I see here that the guide and group of ten tourists never reached their destination,” Sam began as he found the webpage with news from White River National Forest and Dean sat down beside him to look at the computer. “Apparently it’s fairly common that the guide is one or two days late, but due to the mutilated body they have sent out two experienced guides together with four hunters to run the trail to make sure the group is safe.”

“Yea, I read that,” the older of the Winchesters made a wave to the computer, “bring up the police report. Let's check if it looks like animal or monster.”

“I can’t just bring up the report, Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Well, do the hacker-thingy, like with the hospitals, and bring it up.”

“I’m not a hacker,” Sam insisted with a sigh, “I don’t know how.”

“Well, call Charlie then, and have her bring it up,” Dean argued and Sam realized that it was a good idea.

“Okay.”

“I’ll make us some more coffee,” Dean stated and got up to go to the kitchen as Sam made the call.

It didn’t take long before they had both the coroner’s report, the police report, pictures of the scene and every injury on the body.

“That’s so nasty!” the female voice came from the phone that was lying on the table with its speakers on.

“Yea,” Sam agreed despite not feeling any revulsion, “I know it’s disgusting. We owe you one.”

“I can’t believe that the coroner wrote this down as an animal desecration, look at those bitemarks!” Dean stated and pointed to a picture of the thigh bone where extremely sharp teeth had dug into the bone and left deep scores.

“Well, the coroner doesn’t know any better,” Sam suggested and looked to the picture, “it almost looks like a vampire, if vampires ate human meat.”

“Samwise, since you guys owe me one now. How about you repay me right now by telling me how to make a voodoo doll? I mean, you know stuff,” Charlie wondered and Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Voodoo dolls are extremely dangerous. You can easily kill someone with it,” Sam warned while looking at the phone, knowing that the woman wasn’t a malicious person, “why do you want one?”

“Ah, it’s supposed to be a voodoo doll of myself. I need a backrub. Seriously, my back is killing me!” Charlie insisted and made the hunter laugh.

“That’s extremely dangerous,” Dean stated to the phone.

“Clever and stupid! I like her!” Gabriel piped up from the couch after having listened in on the conversation. “I wouldn’t recommend it, though.”

“Who’s that?” Charlie wondered curiously.

“That’s-,” Dean interrupted himself, “Luie.”

“What’s up with the pause? His name is not Luie, is it?”

“The name is Loki,” Gabriel called out.

“Loki?” Charlie went silent for a second, “Loki! As in Asgard and Thor and Odin!”

“Yes, that’s him,” Sam confirmed.

“Ooh! Is he tall, dark and handsome?! Like in the movies?” Charlie asked quickly and made both hunters laugh.

“No!” Dean almost cried laughing.

“Shut up!” Gabriel called out in mock-offence, used to being laughed at for his short stature by pagans, “and no Hulk would be able to beat me! I would’ve fried him the moment he touched me!”

The laughter slowly died down and seriousness settled between the brothers before they bid farewell to the hacker and started to compare the bitemark to that of what they had seen before, ending up on wendigo again.

For an hour, they debated whether they should rent a fishing cabin close to the trail or if they were going to camp out in the forest. Their finances weren’t in great shape so buying a large tent seemed more reasonable, and away from prying eyes they could always create the Anasazi circle around the tent, but if the hunt took long then bathroom breaks would get messy.

“Let’s rent a cabin on my card, I can’t stand to hear you two argue anymore,” Gabriel groaned half an hour later and massaged his temples.

“Why do you have a card? It’s not like you need money,” Dean wondered quickly with suspicion.

“In case I lose my powers,” Gabriel stated as though it was obvious and kept staring into the mirror in his hand, “it never hurts to be prepared. You, as a hunter, should know that.”

“Whatever, dick.”

“Please, I need my luxury if I’m going to be mortal,” the archangel huffed and then shrugged, “but it’s not like I don’t have immortal friends where I can crash if my money would be gone.”

“Where the fuck is Cas?” Dean then wondered, realizing that the angel wasn’t where he usually was.

“Out for a walk,” Sam stated and looked to the watch on his computer, “three hours ago. You should probably call him and get him to come back if we’re going to Colorado.”

“Yea,” Dean sighed, brought out his phone and dialed the number.

“Hey, Cas, where are you?” Dean wondered the moment the phone clicked.

“Bees? What bees? Are you naked again?”

…

“Are you lying to me?”

…

“You’re a terrible liar! We’re going to Colorado. Get dressed and come back.” Dean hung up with a heavy sigh.

Gabriel snickered at the conversation, knowing that he was the one to point out to the angel that there was a bee’s nest close to the bunker and knew exactly what the falling angel was going to do with that knowledge.

“Great, Cas found a bee’s nest,” Dean groaned and got up from the chair, “just what we need; a reason for him to get naked around the bunker. What if someone sees him? All we need is for the cops to go searching the forest for a crazy, naked person! I’m getting my bag, packing some flair guns, silver swords, silver bullets and driving out Baby. Pack your bags and bring some food with you.”

Sam sent a glance to the trickster and then got up from the table to pack his computer and the tablet. Gabriel jumped up from the couch and headed down to his room. He quickly locked the door as he heard Sam’s steps on the floor above. He walked up to the mirror and filled in the groove with bee’s wax before placing his hand on the mirror’s face. Inside his storage, he jumped and watched the lights turn on and then flew to the nest where he carefully peeled off the feathers from the large, blue egg.

“Hey, Sweetie, come to papa,” he cooed and then picked it up. He made sure it was healthy and then took it inside himself, shivering pleasantly at the warmth it provided. The egg immediately started to nurse and Gabriel smiled as he flew back to the entrance. He excited through the mirror, used his pagan powers to remove the bee’s wax and then snapped his fingers, creating a satchel filled with candy. A wave of dizziness struck him and he blinked as he supported himself by holding into the wall. He shook his head and decided to try and use his celestial powers again. He made a wave to the bed, creating rose petals over it, and felt another wave of dizziness strike him, almost making his legs buck under him. With a frown, Gabriel snapped his fingers, using his pagan powers to create a clock on the wall above the small pond. He waited. No dizziness came over him.

“I see,” Gabriel mumbled to himself, realizing that he could only use his celestial powers when he wasn’t carrying the egg. He shook his head and then walked out of his room.

* * *

They waited outside for ten minutes. Then Castiel came walking through the tree line and they could finally leave. In the car, Sam gave a call to one of the camping sites, asking about the available lodgings and spoke with the reception for a while. Gabriel closed his eyes and listened to the humming of the engine while feeling how the egg tickled as it nursed. Sam’s call ended and music came on. For most of the car ride, Gabriel sat with his eyes closed and felt the egg nurse. He wasn’t interested in anything else. Slowly, the sun set and they arrived late during the night.

They were given keys to the cabin and a map of the area as they paid, but Gabriel happily rented some fishing gear and brought it along to the car.

“This isn’t some fishing trip,” Dean stated with an annoyed look as Gabriel got into the vehicle after packing the fishing gear in the trunk.

“Speak for yourself,” Gabriel grinned as the car started, “but after that wendigo is dead there is no reason why you can’t relax for a bit. Besides, I don’t think Cassie has ever fished.”

“I have not,” Castiel chimed in.

“Fine, we’ll gank the wendigo and then stay for a couple of days,” Dean sighed, making both angels begin to smile.

Much to Dean’s frustration, the next day a heavy rain storm had blown in. The rain struck the roof hard, making it almost impossible to speak inside the cabin. The outhouse was barely visible through the shower and the moment anyone stepped outside to use it they were drenched.

Sam spent the day with the tablet, reading about old tomes that he thought might have some clues about the Mark of Cain, but the books resided in the Vatican and he had neither the money nor any idea of how to get to them. He’d been sitting in one end of the couch with Cas in the other, when suddenly Gabriel left his bed and staggered over to the couch. With a yawn, he lay down with his head in Sam’s lap and curled himself to a small ball. Sam stared at him for a moment, not completely comfortable with the liberty taken on him, but then slowly relaxed, deciding that it was just something he would have to live with. He shifted and then sent a blushing glance to the archangel before he continued his mission to see which books the Vatican had copied.

Gabriel woke up in his bed, unaware of how he got there and he had to assume that either Sam or Castiel had carried him. He yawned and stretched out, listening in on the humans sleeping softly in the same tiny room in their top bunkbeds. With a content sigh, he remembered that he had dreamt something about a house on fire and him running through the burning hallways. Gabriel rolled out of bed and entered the combined kitchen and living room. He looked around after his brethren, but he found the living room empty, so he left the house. A quick look around the area told him that Castiel probably had wandered off somewhere and Gabriel looked to the sun, deciding that it was between five and six in the morning, too early for the humans to wake up.

After standing in the sun for a while, Gabriel turned and went inside the cabin again. For half an hour, he sat with his mirror by the table, looking through message after message for any clues about where an old friend of his was. Most of the messages had to do with the apocalypse, the Advent when the angels fell to Earth and the deaths of pagans, many of whom he’d considered friends at some point in time.

Knowing how hard it was to kill an archangel, Gabriel had assumed that he would outlive everyone he knew, everyone he was attached to, and he sometimes mourned people that were still alive just to prepare for their loss. With a low sigh, Gabriel placed the mirror on the table, tired of hearing how many had died. It was just like the last time when the Black Plague overwhelmed humans, creatures and immortals, causing chaos and fighting over food.

Gabriel grabbed some sticks and threw them into the wood burning stove. Not knowing where the lighter was he looked around in the different cupboards, finding it tucked into a drawer. He was intent on not using his pagan powers in case he would have to defend the egg from a ravenous wendigo, so after he lit the sticks he gently blew into the small fire.

After a minute, it had started to consume the wood. The archangel smiled and hummed lowly to himself as he brought out larger pieces of firewood with plenty of birch bark on them. The fire greedily accepted them and flared around the birch. Gabriel closed the hatch and happily went out to get water from the well. It was something calming and gratifying to do trivial things like making fire and collecting water.

As he returned, the stovetop had become warm so he brought out the coffee maker, filled it with water and coffee grounds before placing it on the stove furthest away from him. His sensitive hearing picked up a yawn from the bedroom and let him know that someone was awake. Gabriel smirked and brought out a pan, spun it in his hand and placed it down on the stovetop. He opened the small fridge, powered by solar panels on the roof, and brought out eggs, bacon, cheese, ham, a bell pepper, a tomato and two sausages.

With the same skill as an experienced chef, Gabriel cut up the bacon in smaller bits and threw them into the pan. While they fried, he cut up the ham, the tomato, the bell pepper and the two sausages before he threw everything but the tomato into a second pan for storage. He stirred the bacon bits, smelling them simmering in their own fat, and grinned as he grated some of the cheese, quickly throwing it into the cold pan with the other ingredients that waited for their turn on the stove. With a fast move, he stirred the bacon again, seeing that they were ready. He poured the bacon into the cold pan together with the bacon fat and cracked six eggs into the cold pan before stirring the ingredients and adding spices. The hot pan was placed back on the stove and he emptied the ingredients into it.

Hearing someone climbing down the ladder to the bed, he guessed that it was the older of the Winchesters, because the steps weren’t as heavy as they would be if Sam had been the one to climb down.

The coffee started to boil, so he carefully moved it on the stove so that it was standing partly on the hot stove and partly on the cold bench so that it could simmer on its own without boiling over.

“Sammy?” Dean showed up in the doorway with a large yawn and rubbed his eyes, “I smell bacon.”

“Gabriel?!” the human suddenly realized who was standing by the stove and stared, “why are you making food?! You don’t even eat!”

Dean was suddenly completely awake, suspiciously glaring at the trickster that shrugged and stirred the pot once before letting it settle on its own.

“I do eat,” Gabriel insisted and placed the slices of tomato on top of the slowly hardening pie.

“Yea! Candy! Not real food!” Dean argued, but Gabriel just smirked at him.

“I was bored and I felt like making something,” the archangel defended himself with a shrug, “I really like wood stoves.”

Dean opened his mouth to retort and Gabriel waited, but the hunter only turned around.

“Sam! Gabriel made breakfast!”

“Then thank him, Dean,” Sam muttered from his bed, not having slept well and woke up when Dean had raised his voice the first time.

“But who knows what he put in it!” Dean called out.

“Smells like bacon!” Sam yelled back in an irritated voice.

“But it might contain something weird!”

“Don’t eat it then!”

“But-.”

“Shut up, Dean!”

“Bitch!”

“Jerk!”

Dean turned around to see Gabriel look at him with a tired look.

“I don’t know how Cassie can stand you two,” the archangel sighed and rolled his eyes as he got back to watching over the breakfast pie, “here I’m trying to do something nice for you and the only thing I get is suspicion…”

“You killed me repeatedly,” Dean stated as Sam climbed down the ladder.

“Of which you have no memories,” Gabriel grinned.

“Yea, well, technically not…” the older hunter mumbled and looked to the floor like a petulant child.

“I’m not going to force you to eat,” the trickster confessed and made a wave to the fridge, “you can make your own food or taste mine, I don’t care, but know that I’ve been a chef to a few kings!”

“Bullshit!”

“No, I promise!” Gabriel grinned, speaking the truth, as Sam showed up, completely dressed, “when you’ve lived as long as I have you start to do things, just for fun!”

“I don’t believe you…”

“I’ll prove it to you! When we get back I’ll make food you’ve never tasted before.”

“I’m not sure I’d wanna taste that either,” Dean insisted, but Gabriel just smiled and his retort was interrupted by Castiel returning to the cabin.

“Cas! Where have you been?” Dean immediately questioned and saw the solemn look on the angel.

“I have searched for the wendigo,” Castiel announced and sat down by the table, “there are no traces of a wendigo close to the camping site.”

“Did you lick the ground again?” Sam wondered curiously and placed plates and cups on the table before he went to get cutlery.

“No, merely smelled it,” Castiel informed the hunter and then turned to look at Gabriel with a curious look, studying how human the archangel looked when he somehow had his wings and halo hidden.

“Did you walk around on all fours and sniff the ground?” Dean asked suspiciously and grabbed the seraph’s attention.

“Yes, it was easiest.”

“Great,” Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out a chair to sit down opposite to the angel, “did anyone see you?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Well, I bet this place gets their fair share of weirdos anyway,” Dean sighed.

“I did meet a dog though,” Castiel smiled at the memory, “he said that the trackers are scared and only the police dogs with their handlers are sweeping the area to the north.”

“A dog told you?” Sam wondered astonished as he placed the cutlery and then sat down.

“Yes, his name was Kujo, he used to be a police dog, sniff out drugs, but he’s retired. His master lives in a cabin not far from here. Also a retired police man.”

As the humans digested the fact that Castiel had talked to a dog, Gabriel brought the breakfast pie over to the table and placed it down.

“Smells amazing, Gabriel,” Sam stated and made the archangel grin happily and go get the coffee.

“I bet that if the police are to the north the wendigo won’t be there. Too many people, and too many hunters. Wendigos only attack lone people or small groups,” Dean mused aloud to himself and then got up to go pick up the map that hung over the couch.

“There are some mountains to the West, let’s go there first and see if we can find a cave or where it lives,” Dean suggested and sat down again on his place with the large map to study it.


	18. Same Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunted down. Castiel is pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-21  
> Words: 3 500

Three days went by as they walked in the forest and searched for the wendigo during the day and then played loud music during the night to draw it in. Dean marked on the map which areas had been searched while Sam kept his tablet with him and kept everyone updated on news from the area.

The group of missing tourists had been found camping on the trail, but the guide was missing. From one of the people’s blogs Sam read that they had all heard a woman’s voice in the forest, screaming for help. The guide had gone to investigate, but never returned.

“Definitely a wendigo!” Dean asserted with a grin that evening, feeling his bloodlust increase with every moment. If it wasn’t for Sam and the angels he would’ve gone hunting for the wendigo during the night too. He had his flair gun, but he was certain that he wouldn’t use it. He was going for close combat with his silver sword.

“Most likely, but that would mean that it was earlier far to the north, way beyond the policed area,” Sam hummed to himself, “now the police will be looking through that area too so it will probably have moved on.”

“Let’s pack up tomorrow and head back to the cabin, restock and then head north east,” Dean suggested and Sam nodded in agreement before the hunters went to sleep. Unbeknownst to both humans, Gabriel soon joined the two brothers in the tent, deciding on sleeping in between them and examined how he could feel their souls radiate. In the warmth between the brothers Gabriel fell into a peaceful sleep.

Gabriel had only woken up once the tent collapsed on top of him as the humans laughed when he struggled his way out.

“Hey,” the trickster greeted them both, smelling that they had made hamburgers for breakfast and seeing them on the fire.

“If you wanna sleep with us, then you carry the tent,” Dean stated with an amused smirk and continued to pack his belongings.

“Sure,” Gabriel shrugged and crawled out of the tent to pack it into its bag; it wasn’t like he couldn’t carry his candy bag and the tent, but he would have to make some suitable revenge for how they decided to wake him, maybe shaking every one of Dean-o’s beers would be good and putting porn on Sam’s tablet. That would get them going.

* * *

They got back to the cabin and Sam immediately started to charge his power banks while Dean went over to the fridge.

“I’m heading to the campsite, we need more food,” Dean called out and heard his brother respond.

“Okay.”

“You want anything special?”

“No? Wait, get some beers, after we’ve taken care of the wendigo I wanna fish and relax,” Sam called back from the bedroom.

“Beers it is,” Dean nodded to himself, closed the fridge and then stopped in the door, “I’m gonna use the state trooper ID if I have to, so you use that too.”

“Okay,” Sam called out and heard the door close as Dean left. Half a minute later and he heard the impala’s engine turn on and then the tires moving in the gravel. Not knowing what do to, Sam repacked both of their backpacks, making sure that the first aid kit was easily available before heading over to the sink in the tiny closet to clean himself the best he could.

When Dean returned and entered through the door, he was met with the delicious smell of freshly made coffee and food. Gabriel was once again standing by the wood burning stove and happily fried up some meat, a sauce and boiled potatoes. Dean decided to not say anything as he was starving and just unpacked the groceries. He took out a pair of clean clothes before he headed out to the well.

Dean dumped the clothes in a pile on the grass with the towel on top, dropped the soap on the edge and rolled up the bucket with water. He pulled it to the edge and placed it down. With his fingers in the water he shivered despite the hot sunlight; the well was exceptionally cold. For a second he hesitated but then shrugged and pulled off his shirt. He washed his face and his armpits first, feeling his hands go numb from the cold. He looked around, knowing that there were no cabins nearby and then pulled off his pants and underwear to finish cleaning himself.

When Dean was finished, he was a shivering mess and dried himself with the towel before putting on his clothes and returned to the cabin. A hot meal and a hot cup of coffee later, he was a happy hunter.

Sam was doing the dishes with Dean drying them on a towel when the sound of a car interrupted them. They shared a look as they knew that there was only one cabin out there before they both dropped what they were doing and placed themselves along the window. A large, black SUV came climbing up the hill and Dean saw that it had letters on one side, but he wasn’t able to make them out, until it suddenly turned and stopped; FBI.

“Is that an FBI car, or am I reading it wrong?” Sam asked and got nervous, knowing that they had caused many unsolved crimes and crossed state lines.

“It’s the FBI,” Dean narrowed his eyes, “but it’s only one car... If they were here to arrest us they would’ve brought more than one.”

“Unless they got the area surrounded,” Sam interjected and watched as the door to the car opened and a man with black hair, sunglasses and a suit stepped out. He fixed his suit and said something to the other person at the other side of the car before heading towards the cabin. The other person hurried around the car and Sam immediately recognized her, despite the FBI cap that she wore.

“It’s Valentine and James!”

“Oh? The demon hunters?” Dean wondered and watched the two approach, “what do we do?”

“Invite them for coffee?” Gabriel suddenly suggested from his lying position on the couch, “or go out to meet them.”

“Meet them?” Dean questioned his brother.

“Meet them,” Sam agreed and they both moved to the door.

“You’ve got your gun in case things go south?” Dean wondered with his hand on the handle.

“Yep,” Sam nodded and felt how heavy the gun suddenly felt against his skin.

“Good,” Dean opened the door as the two fake FBI agents neared the house.

“Sup!” the older of the brothers called out and then got out, seeing that the agents didn’t seem surprised.

“Sam and Dean, right?” James asked as he stopped walking while both of the brothers got out on the porch and slowly walked down the stairs.

“Yep, and you’re James and Valentine,” Dean smiled invitingly, but the woman seemed less than happy.

“Thieves! Give back Nip!” Valentine growled loudly and pointed to them, “how the hell are we supposed to _kill_ demons without Nip?! Are we just going to expel demons and wait for them to worm their slimy way back to the surface?!”

James placed a hand on Valentine’s shoulder, calming the woman as Dean blinked, not knowing what they were talking about. Sam groaned internally before grabbing his brother’s shoulder and turned him around to whisper to him.

“Nip is what they call their angel blade. I let Cas take it, because it might harm the angels left on Earth,” Sam whispered, unaware that Valentine tried her best to listen in on them.

“But they are killing demons,” Dean asserted strongly, “let’s give it back.”

“But… the angels…” Sam insisted.

“You’re the one who wanted to have good relations with other hunters,” Dean muttered with an annoyed look, “give it back.”

“Fine, you get Cas to give it back.”

“Fine,” the elder of the Winchesters sighed and then looked up to the window, seeing that Castiel was staring at them without even trying to hide himself.

“Cas! Get out here!” Dean called out and watched as the angel moved from the window. With a curious expression, Castiel left the house and then glared at the vampire as he stood on the porch; he had not forgotten what she called him.

“Cas! Give them back the blade that you and Sam took!”

Castiel eyed the older Winchester and then narrowed his eyes. Dean knew what the angel was going to say before he’d even opened his mouth.

“No, it does not belong to them,” Castiel informed in a cold tone and sent a glance to the two fake agents.

“It belongs to us! Robert gave it to us!” Valentine argued with the angel that just stared.

“It was not his to give,” Castiel stated calmly.

“You fucking demon! You just won’t give it back because you don’t want us to kill your brethren!” Valentine yelled, making the last of the angel’s patience run out. Castiel’s eyes narrowed again and with determined steps he walked down from the porch before he reached for his dying grace, making his eyes began to shine as his halo lit up.

“Cas!” Sam called out as immense winds whipped up from nowhere.

“What the-!” Dean had time to say before they both were pushed away by the strong grace of an angel out for blood. James took a step back, trying to bring Valentine with him, but she was frozen in place by Castiel’s grace. James realized that something was wrong and stepped in front of his vampire mistress with his gun drawn. Castiel waved his hand, making the human go flying, locking him to the grass when he landed and neared the wide-eyed vampire.

“ _My name is Castiel_ ,” the voice resonated with power and the angel’s eyes glowed in anger as he slowly closed in on the female, “ _I am an Angel of the Lord, and shall be regarded as such. If you, Valentine Ashdown, refer to me as a demon once more I shall smite you like filth._ ”

Castiel had his face mere inches from Valentine’s and let his power return to its depths. The harsh winds stopped blowing, Castiel’s halo died down and his eyes slowly returned to normal. Valentine took a few steps back as she was released from the hold and stared terrified at the man before her.

“Oh, yeah! Angel power!” Gabriel slow clapped where he stood in the doorway, disarming the intense situation and made Castiel scowl at him and both of the Winchesters stared shocked at the archangel. “What are we arguing about?”

“There is no argument,” Castiel informed, once again calm and collected, and turned to glare at the two agents that quickly checked each other for injuries.

“Cas! What the hell!” Dean got up from the ground and yelled at the angel’s back, “don’t use your powers just to show off! Now give back the angel blade!”

Castiel turned around to the hunter and sighed, “it’s not mine to give.”

“Then whose is it?”

“It belongs to Galizur,” the angel informed, “I have returned it to him.”

“Then ask Galizur if he can lend his blade to kill some godforsaken demons!”

Castiel blinked and then nodded before calling Galizur’s name into the ether.

‘ _Galizur.’_

_‘Yes, Castiel, what can I do for you?’_

Not knowing how to phrase the question, Castiel frowned; the angels were currently at peace with all of Crowley’s followers as they were hunting leviathan and if Castiel started to order angels to kill demons Crowley would eventually hear about it.

_‘There are two hunters who wish to speak with you. Could you come to me?’_

‘ _Of course.’_

“It is done,” Castiel stated to the older Winchester and then looked to the two fake agents.

“And?” Dean urged the angel to continue.

“I asked him to-,” a child appeared out of nowhere as Castiel spoke, “come here.”

Castiel smiled down to the boy, “Galizur, it’s good to see you again.”

“Same to you, Castiel,” the child stated and Dean groaned as he hid his face in his hands; the fucking angels had taken a child to use as a vessel, “which hunters wished to speak with me?”

Castiel used one of his wings to point to the fake agents, to the hunters however it seemed like Castiel never answered, but Galizur only turned to the correct hunters.

“How can I be of assistance?” Galizur asked and made Valentine frown.

“Can we have your blade?” the vampire asked and stared at the child, seeing the supposedly angel blink.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because angels and the largest fraction of demons are at peace. Therefore I cannot aid you,” Galizur informed and made Castiel clear his throat before speaking up.

“The hunters only want your weapon, not your aid,” the leader of heaved stated.

“You would not consider this a breach in the agreement?” Galizur turned to Castiel with a curious expression.

“The agreement is that _no angel_ will kill a demon as long as demons find leviathans. As long as you are not killing a demon you are not breaching the agreement. I’ve found that working with demons there is a fine line for rules. Follow the agreement to the letter. The blade is yours and the choice is yours.”

For a moment Galizur stared at the leader of heaven, but then smiled as he understood. The child turned to the two hunters and then held out his blade.

“Those who strayed will be punished. Slay as many as you can,” Galizur held out the shimmering blade and Valentine took it with a smile.

“Yes, we will,” she grinned at the blade and then smiled at the angel, “thank you.”

“If that was all I shall return to my duty,” Galizur stated as the fake agents admired the blade and wings were heard as he left.

Gabriel peaked out the door and saw that the angel was gone. The archangel left the building and walked down the stairs, placing himself beside the Winchesters.

“So, have you hunted us since Cassi took the blade?” Gabriel wondered with a smirk, knowing who they were since Sam had retold the story of how they found him after his crash.

“Yes,” James answered the person that they knew was a pagan deity, “we’ve hunted you guys for a week, but once this body showed up eaten we knew that you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

“Yea, it’s probably a wendigo,” Dean smiled, happy to be able to speak about his work without anyone recoiling in horror.

“We know,” Valentine nodded and placed the angel blade inside her jacket.

“Have you killed it?” the older Winchester wondered quickly, feeling how a horrified disappointment washed over him.

“No, but we’ve compared the teeth marks on the body with that of a wendigo. The teeth aren’t a hundred percent match, but there’s room for some individuality,” James spoke and Sam began to smile, realizing that James was an intellectual hunter and not just someone who headed straight into a fight without a plan.

“I thought you only hunted demons,” Dean frowned and made Valentine shrug.

“We both have been hunters before the hell gates opened, but after it we’ve only hunted demons, and we know that you two are the ones responsible. You are the Winchesters, aren’t you?”

“No,” Sam responded with a grim expression, “we’re responsible for a lot, but _that_ was not our fault. Azazel, a demon, and Jake, a human, opened the hellgates. We were there hunting Azazel. We closed them before every demon had time to escape.”

“Oh, we’ve heard a different story,” James stated and looked interested to the taller of the hunters, “one where Samuel Winchester is part demon. One where he is completely demonic, and so on.”

Sam felt himself go completely cold despite the sunlight.

“But since you fed Valentine we know that you’re human,” the man smiled, not knowing how miserable he’d made the tall hunter. Now Sam knew that, not only the angels found him to be a freak, every hunter also found him to be one.

“Well, just because someone says something doesn’t mean it’s true,” Dean sighed, knowing how his brother felt about being the Boy with Demon Blood and Boy King of Hell.

“True, that’s why we don’t listen to rumors,” Valentine smiled.

“But speaking of demons, have you heard that it’s possible to turn a demon into a human?” the older hunter continued on the same topic and got surprised looks from both agents.

“No, really? Have you done it?” Valentine quickly asked.

“No, but we saw a priest do it on a video tape,” Sam stated, half-lying; he had done it once, but he wasn’t about to share something that personal, “have you two been out in the forest hunting the wendigo?”

“Yea, Valentine has been running the forest for two days and I’ve been camping in a safe circle with a police radio,” James smiled at the memories, thinking nothing of the switch in topic.

“We’ve been doing basically the same, but with music instead,” Sam smiled and then made a gesture to the cabin, “anyone want a beer?”

“Sorry, I’m driving,” James confessed, but received an elbow in his side from Valentine.

“I can drive,” Valentine smirked at her partner, “besides, you rarely get to make human friends because of me.”

“Okay then, sweetie,” James murmured quietly and gazed happily at his vampire.

“Let’s get out of the sunlight,” Sam grinned, happy to finally be able to make some friends that wouldn’t look at him like a disgusting abomination.

“We’ve actually been to this cabin before and checked out who the impala belonged to,” James suddenly confessed and Dean’s eyes widened.

“What did you do to my Baby?”

“Just searched for who owned the car and then opened the trunk,” the fake agent stated and made Dean run up to the car and check the trunk, finding no trace that it had been opened by any other than the key to the car.

“Not a single scratch,” Dean marveled and nodded impressed, “you two are good!”

Valentine grinned at James and James smiled amused at her.

“Yes, you’re great,” the dark-haired man whispered and then bent down to kiss Valentine on her forehead.

“Let’s get out of this horrible sun,” Valentine grinned and eagerly clapped her hands together, watching as the human that had fed her nodded.

Sam could not remember how long it had been since he sat down with other hunters for a beer, told stories and laughed together. It was almost as if time had reversed itself and they were back before the apocalypse, way back before anything terrible had happened. Sam hadn’t even realized how much he missed those times when he only had to worry about the next hunt and what food they were having for the day. Several hours passed by as the group enjoyed themselves, and during those hours they decided that they all were going to hunt for the wendigo together. Before they all left James revealed that they had placed a motion detecting device by the door so that they would be alerted when the door was opened.

* * *

As they were heading deep into the forest Gabriel gave the vampire an intrigued look.

“Valentine,” the archangel grinned as the woman looked to him, “how long ago was it that you actually hunted humans?”

“You guys ask _weird_ questions,” Valentine responded with narrowed eyes and opened her mouth to answer the question, but Gabriel was faster.

“Vampires have the need to hunt built into their very genes, just like the feeding frenzy. It doesn’t mean that you can’t be without it, it’s just something that you would miss doing,” Gabriel explained his reasoning and then waited for the woman to respond.

“Well, yes, I miss it a lot, but hunting someone down and attacking them would make it harder to resist the feeding frenzy. Not that I’ve tried, but the adrenalin and the entire situation would be something I’m not willing to try on James.”

“I see,” Gabriel hummed, mentally making a note to remember to put it in the computer files that he’d done in the bunker.

“Any more questions? What blood type I prefer?” Valentine joked and Gabriel peaked up.

“You have a preferred blood type?” the trickster grinned excitedly and made the vampire shake her head.

“Not that I know…”

“Would you be willing to perform a few tests after the wendigo is dead? I’m sure Sam is interested in those as well,” Gabriel hummed and thought of several tests they could do.

“What kind of tests?”

“Speed, strength, blood types, hunting, and to see if you go into a feeding frenzy after you’ve hunted,” Gabriel suggested interested.

“I’m not hunting anyone,” Valentine insisted with a determined look.

“The angel isn’t the only one with interesting powers,” Gabriel grinned to himself and winked to the vampire before he continued to walk in silence.


	19. The Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendigo hunt. Sam and Gabriel Bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-24  
> Words: 4 100

“One hour til’ sundown,” James stated and looked to his tablet, “we’re only a couple of hundred meters from a larger clearing. We can set up camp there.”

Dean brought out his paper map and quickly found the area James referred to and nodded before turning and checking that everyone was with the group, even the archangel that went a little behind everyone. Dean turned back and continued to lead the group with James as the second in command.

Gabriel sighed as he looked down and saw that one of his shoelaces had come undone. He bent down and retied his shoelace, letting the group move ahead of him. A small sound came from behind him and he felt how the hairs on his neck rose as an alarm went through his body. Reacting completely on instinct, he growled and spun around, turned his eyes into silvery mirrors to show his pagan nature, withdrew his true form’s claws and turned his teeth sharp and glowing. The pale skinned wendigo hesitated with one clawed hand on the tree trunk and one foot in the air, never having met a creature faster than itself. Its lips were drawn into a snarl and the wendigo hissed.

The archangel felt anger course through his body at the creature’s lack of fear. Territorial senses made Gabriel hiss back and ready himself for a fight he would easily win. The wendigo drew its claws along the tree truck in a show of dominance and they both started to circle each other. Gabriel suddenly realized that this wendigo wasn’t seeing him as a meal, it was behaving as though he was there to challenge it over its hunting grounds.

The naked wendigo made a lunge with its clawed hands and Gabriel dodged before he jumped forward, digging his own pure white claws into the creature’s chest and teared through its meat. Gabriel was struck over his neck and fell to the ground on his back as the wendigo fled with a screech. His small injuries healed as quickly as they had been made and a wave of dizziness came over him, making him close his eyes with a sigh.

“Gabriel?!” a distant voice called out and Gabriel opened his eyes, turning more human-ish as the group burst through the undergrowth of the forest.

“Yep?” the archangel grinned at their worried faces as he sat up.

“What happened?” James quickly wondered and Gabriel realized that everyone was staring below his face. He looked down, realizing that he was covered in a dark, red substance, almost with a purple hue.

“Wendigo happened,” Gabriel grinned and with a snap of his fingers used his pagan powers to clean himself. “It went that way,” he pointed to where the purple blood had coated some bushes and Valentine went to examine it.

“We can track it now,” the woman stated with a smirk.

“As it’s injured it will return to its lair,” James stated as the Winchesters pulled out their swords and flair guns, “but it won’t be injured for long.”

“We’ll follow your lead, Val,” Dean stated as Castiel pulled his blade and Gabriel pulled out a silvery sword.

Valentine grew out her teeth and felt her eyesight gain sharpness before she took the branch with blood on it and smelled it deeply. Moving fast, she headed in the direction of the droplets of blood with the group of hunters running behind her.

Neither hunter was aware for how long they followed the running vampire when they finally arrived at a small entrance to a hill. The hunters regrouped and dropped their backpacks to the ground. James and Valentine pulled out flashlights as Sam and Dean turned theirs on. Sam took out the first aid kit and hung it around his neck before lighting his torch and nodded to his brother that he was ready.

Dean looked to the fake agents, seeing them also nod as they were ready. Without speaking, the group headed inside the narrow opening with Dean as a lead and Sam as second. Gabriel gestured for the agents to move in before him and then forced his falling brother to follow them. Gabriel now knew that if the creature tried to attack from behind he would be there to prevent it.

They quietly snuck down the narrow passageway, vary of any sound that was made and felt the cold, wet air make their clothes stick to their bodies. A low scream echoed through the cave system and the Winchesters sped up.

“ _No! Ah! Get back! Get back!_ ” the voice called out in terror and made Dean take off in a sprint, ready to kill the wendigo on his own.

“Dean,” Sam hissed annoyed by his brother’s sudden burst in speed and quickly ran for him as silently as he could, but in the narrow crevice Dean had the advantage of being smaller compared to Sam.

An animalistic screech of anger followed and with every beat of his heart, Dean could feel the increase in excitement. He got to a large opening and followed the humans’ scream, distinguishing that there were two voices, one male and one female. He rounded a corner, hearing that he was getting close and suddenly saw the situation.

The wendigo was ripping flesh from the leg of the man while digging it’s claws into the leg to keep the man still.

“I’m here, you bastard!” Dean yelled and made the wendigo hiss at him as it got up. One swing of the sword and the wendigo lost a clawed hand with a painful shriek. The pale creature tried to make it past Dean to flee, but Dean jumped, crashing them both into the wall. The wendigo got up just as quickly as Dean was on it again and the hunter felt the mark burn on his arm. With a swing of the sword, Dean cut deeply into the creature’s neck and made it collapse in a heap of limbs. Sparing no time, Dean swung the silver sword and decapitated the creature completely just as Sam and the rest of the group reached him.

“Survivors,” Dean stated and shone his flashlight on the two people, only to realize that there were many bundles on the cave floor, half-eaten torsos and heads in varying degrees of decomposition. Sam ran up to the bleeding man and started to take care of his wounds.

“Oh, thank God you’re here!” the man whimpered and broke down crying from the fact that he was finally saved and the terror was over. Valentine headed over to the woman, tying her loose as she too cried in relief and hugged the FBI agent.

“What the fuck was that thing?!” the woman cried out and looked to where James were breaking glow sticks to light up the area full of bodies and skeletons.

“A wendigo, but you’re safe now,” Valentine answered and felt her mouth water at the sound of the human’s fast heartbeat; the more adrenalin, the more delicious they were, “are you injured in any way?”

“No, only a few bruises,” the woman sighed as Dean joined Sam in taking care of the man’s injuries, “have you found Mark?”

“Mark who? And what’s your name?”

“I’m Alice Jackson, and Mark Phillips is my boyfriend,” the woman quickly began to explain the situation, “we were camping when he thought that he heard something. I said that it’s probably a deer or some animal. He insisted on going out to investigate. He was gone for a couple of minutes and I got out of our tent to call for him, but he never answered. Then that thing showed up and knocked me out.”

“James,” Valentine called out to her partner.

“Already on it,” the man answered back and searched on his tablet, “all I’ve got on Mr. Phillips is a parking ticket, paid.”

“Crap,” the vampire muttered and made the woman nervous.

“What does that mean? Why ‘crap’?”

“It means that he hasn’t reported you missing,” Valentine began to explain, “which means that he can still be out there in the forest, lost or dead.”

“Oh, God, what if the creature got him first, killed him and then heard me?”

“Sadly, that’s a possibility,” James stated from his tablet and then looked around the cave, seeing the two powerful beings crouching by the body of the wendigo. Knowing that he probably shouldn’t start to clean up the scene with witnesses there he decided that he could at least take the teeth prints and claw prints from the wendigo.

“Yea, I’m telling you,” the pagan, known only as Luie, whispered to the angel, “wendigos have very lean meat. Delicious for sautéing, and with a bit of garlic butter-.” The pagan turned around to eye James with a curious expression as he approached.

“I’m just going to get the prints and markings of this wendigo,” James whispered as he crouched down and leaned close to Gabriel, “then you can go back to teaching the angel how to cook wendigo.”

“So you heard…” Gabriel grinned at the fact that the human didn’t seem repulsed with the thought of eating the creature.

“Yes, I wouldn’t eat it myself, but whatever floats your boat, be it wendigo or human,” James whispered lowly, trying to get a gage on what kind of pagan Luie was.

“Only if the human is a willing sacrifice,” Gabriel grinned, trying to upset the hunter, “your adrenalin makes the meat tough and bitter.”

“Disgusting,” James muttered as he took the teeth mark on a small roll.

“You are, yes,” Gabriel snickered and received a raised eyebrow for his bad joke.

“Once I’m done here, why don’t the two of you make yourself useful and bring this body out and burn it,” the human whispered and started to take markings of the remaining hand.

“Aye aye, sir,” Gabriel made a small salute, thinking it was perfect, because he could easily strip the meat off the wendigo and then burn the rest without anyone being the wiser, if he managed to locate some more interesting meats he would be able to host a massive Back-From-The-Dead-party. Maybe two or three more free-range wendigos would do. Why not some cockatrices? Some lightning birds? A longma? Gabriel’s mind was filled with plans for a party as James finished taking samples and started to photograph the wendigo from different angles.

Sam and Dean completed wrapping the man’s bandages and helped him sit up.

“Are you Paul Johnson, the missing guide?” Dean questioned as Gabriel and Castiel picked up the body, severed hand, and head, and carried off with it.

“Yes, that’s my name,” the man stated and looked down to his bandaged legs with a shivering sigh, “I’m so glad you guys showed up when you did! But who are you?”

“We’re a joint venture between the FBI and the state troopers,” Sam lied and held up his state trooper ID.

“You know these creatures exist?” the man looked at Sam’s ID and stared in wonder at the fake officer.

“Yes, most aren’t aware, but we are,” the large hunter confessed with a grim expression, “only silver and fire bites on wendigos as far as we know.”

“What if there are more out there!” Paul suddenly started to hyperventilate and Sam placed his hands on each side of the man’s head and made sure that he was looking at the hunter.

“They never hunt in packs. You’re safe now, so count to ten with me; 1, 2, 3…” Sam slowly counted and watched how the panic settled down. James joined them and crouched down during the time they counted. The fake FBI agent leaned close to Dean and whispered:

“Are you guys going to stay and help the police identify the remains,” James pulled away and followed Dean as the hunter gestured for them to walk away for a bit.

“No, we are however staying in the cabin for a few days. Luie wants to teach Cas to fish. Are you guys staying?” Dean mumbled lowly and watched how Sam spoke with the man and Valentine spoke with the woman.

“Only to help if we are wanted, I have some friends at the FBI who can help with the identification if there are fingerprints and I know of a lab where a friend works so they can handle blood tests,” James murmured and sent a glance into the darkness from where they had come.

“That’s nice of you,” Dean smiled and the fake agent smiled back.

“I do it to honor my dead brother; he was a real FBI agent,” James sighed heavily and sent another glance into the darkness, “how long do you think it will take them to burn the body?”

“That thing burns like dry tinder. The last wendigo we killed we only used a flair gun. It burnt straight though it and then enveloped the entire being,” the Winchester explained.

“Then we can bring the witnesses out and call the police to give them the coordinates.”

Dean nodded and the both of them went over to their partner to help getting the victim’s out of the cave, only to see a small fire where both angels stood. James gave a call to the police, telling them the coordinates and that they had found the missing guide and a woman no one knew was missing.

As darkness fell, they stood around the small fire and Dean threw more wood into it. After ten minutes the sound of a helicopter was heard and the fire was stomped out.

“Wendi-go, more like, wendi-gone,” Gabriel nudged Sam with his elbow, “am I right, or what?” The hunter rolled his eyes at the bad joke and suppressed a smirk as he watched how the helicopter hovered. A man reeled down and the hunters all helped with getting the injured Paul into a harness. One by one, they all entered the large helicopter.

It was late during the night that they finally got back to the cabin and offered the fake FBI agents the bed that Castiel never even used, which they accepted appreciatively since they otherwise had slept in the car. Quickly the only sound in the cabin was the sleeping humans and vampire. Gabriel simply lay in his bed and happily daydreamed of the party he would have to hold some day. 

* * *

Sam lay in bed and calmly listened to his brother’s breaths. His mind was reeling after having had a nightmare and he neither wanted nor could sleep anymore. He blankly stared into the ceiling and breathed deeply and calmly, but his mind was screaming. No thoughts or memories, only one long, unending scream. Sam’s stomach churned and he felt disgusted by his own flesh and soul. Lucifer had defiled him in every way the angel could think and despite being out of the cage Sam was never the same. For a long time, he just listened to his mind screaming, but then wondered if he would feel better if he screamed with it. That would wake Dean, though. But it was a satisfying image; sitting in the middle of his bed, tearing his hair and just screaming. Acting as broken as his mind and as damaged as his soul.

He blinked slowly, not feeling the least bit tired and then slowly sat up. He climbed out of bed, sending a look to the vampire and then to Gabriel, seeing that the archangel opened his eyes confused. Sam made a hushing sound before walking out of the room and then passed the falling angel that tilted his head as Sam headed out of the cabin. The feeling of nausea was repressed as he got out into the cold night air. He breathed in deeply and sighed before he headed down towards the water and the small pier.

Lucifer’s cold laugher rung in his ears as he got down on his knees and vomited into the stream. He hated the archangel for what he’d done, but he hated himself more, for releasing him in the first place. If he’d never released Lucifer, then there would never have been any horsemen nor any time in the cage. He would never have been used as a vessel for Lucifer’s filthy grace and Lucifer would never have been able to touch him.

Sam sighed pleased as the nausea left with the rest of his dinner and he leaned back as the vomit was carried away by the stream. The hunter lay down on the wooden planks and looked up to the sky, studying the stars. He shivered a bit as he stared, feeling his mind continue to scream out its horror, like a broken horn. The water below him slushed, filing him with a welcoming darkness; thoughts of death filled him. But if he drowned he would just end up in hell, and Crowley would pay special attention to him; he was after all destined to be the Boy King of Hell. Crowley would make sure that he drowned in pain and suffering, but nothing Crowley did could ever match what Lucifer had already done to him. It would only be a pathetic attempt to mimic it.

The only reason he kept living was because he didn’t want to go to hell.

“Sup!” Gabriel’s grinning face entered his vision and Sam sighed; he didn’t want company. He was going to throw up again soon.

“Sup,” the hunter responded without the same joyful expression and he quietly wondered if Gabriel truly was that happy to see him or if it was a clever mask he kept on his face at most times.

“Wat’cha doing?” the trickster continued and tilted his head.

“Thinking…” Sam mumbled and let his eyes gaze back to the stars, “watching the stars.”

“Yea, well, Samsquatch, when are you not thinking?” Gabriel contently hummed and lay down beside the hunter, “what are you thinking about?”

“Your brother,” the hunter responded solemnly and Gabriel thought he knew what was wrong.

“Don’t worry about Cassie, I’ve seen your work. I think it’s only time until we can start picking up pieces of his grace, or other’s grace to give him a boost.”

“Yea,” Sam mumbled and saw a falling star, wishing that he wasn’t so filthy and damaged, “why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Can’t,” Gabriel shrugged and pulled out a lollipop, offering a piece of chocolate to the hunter.

“No, thank you,” Sam mumbled and held out a hand, knowing that he was definitely going to vomit if he ate something, “why can’t you?”

“I need a second person to fall asleep, but it doesn’t feel right to _order_ Cassie to cuddle me every time I need sleep. I’ve done it now a few times. He might purr and hold me, but he doesn’t actually want to do it, otherwise he would come to me without me ordering him around,” Gabriel explained and Sam turned to look at him shocked.

“Why do you need a second person?” he wondered with surprise, only receiving a shrug for an answer, “so why did you cuddle up to me yesterday?”

“You started it,” Gabriel grinned at the hunter, “you exchanged my pillow for your lap and I was close to your soul and fell asleep.”

“Oh, that,” Sam blushed slightly and averted his gaze to the stars, “it’s what Dean used to do when I was little and sick.”

“Aw, how cute,” the trickster heckled, “more importantly, why aren’t you sleeping, _human_?”

“Can’t,” Sam replied with a small smile, “I keep dreaming of your favorite brother.”

“Oh. Oh! You have nightmares of Luci!” Gabriel groaned and smacked himself, realizing what ‘brother’ he’d been talking about before.

“Yea, of my time in the cage with him,” Sam answered and saw the angel sit up.

“I can put up a wall if you want,” Gabriel offered with a grin.

“Like Death’s wall?” Sam questioned suspiciously, not sure if he wanted the memories blocked completely.

“No, I’m not strong enough for that. My wall would be more of a see thorough thing. The dreams won’t be as intense and you’ll probably be aware that you’re dreaming,” the archangel explained and Sam thought it over.

“Why would you do it?”

“Geez, what is it about you Winchesters and questioning every move I make?” Gabriel sighed and rolled his eyes, “if you need a reason, think of it as an apology for hitting you in the nuts with a bowling ball on a stick.”

The suggestion made the hunter laugh, and nod.

“I’d love to have the wall,” Sam answered and watched as Gabriel moved over to sit on his knees with Sam’s head between his legs. The archangel placed his palms on Sam’s temples and closed his eyes as he reached for his weak grace. Light came streaming through the archangel’s palms and entered the mind of the hunter. Sam closed his eyes as his mind’s screaming finally subsided and a calmness settled in. He opened his eyes as the light faded and had time to see Gabriel smile down at him before the archangel’s eyes rolled back and his body turned boneless.

“Gabriel?!” Sam yelled in surprise as the archangel collapsed on top of him, pushing him off and started to shake him. The archangel remained completely unresponsive no matter how Sam shook him.

“ _Gabriel?!_ ” he yelled out again, feeling both panic and that same calmness that Gabriel had given him. Sam slapped the angel, feeling tears threaten at the edge of his sight. Sam quickly placed two fingers against the angel’s neck, relieved to find a weak pulse.

“What happened?” Castiel’s worried voice suddenly interrupted Sam and the hunter stared for a second on the angel in a trench coat before reaching for the water and splattered a handful in Gabriel’s face. The archangel groaned, as if in pain, and rolled himself into a ball with his hands on his head.

“He was using grace on me and… _fainted_ ,” Sam then explained as Gabriel’s eyes opened tiredly.

“I’m fine,” Gabriel murmured and unsteadily sat up, having heard what the hunter had said.

“You’re not fine,” Castiel and Sam said, almost in unison.

“Geez,” the trickster rubbed his right eye and held himself upright with his left, “relax a bit. I just haven’t slept as much as I should’ve.”

“It’s okay Gabriel, you’ll be okay,” Sam stated and got up before lifting the weak trickster into his arms and sent a glance to Castiel, “you’re sleeping with me from now on.”

“Wow, Sammy, so forward, you haven’t even brought me on a date,” Gabriel chuckled to himself and earned a smile from the hunter as they all walked back to the cabin.

“Whatever, idiot,” Sam answered back and brought the trickster inside, seeing that the rest of the hunters were still sleeping. Carefully, Sam tucked in the angel in the bed beneath his own and then got in himself. Gabriel smiled as he fell asleep, soon followed by a peaceful hunter. Castiel stood in the doorway for a while, watching the two sleeping shapes, wondering why Gabriel hadn’t asked Castiel to hold him until he fell asleep if he needed the sleep.

Dean woke up as the sun started coloring the sky blue again at five in the morning. He almost walked out of the room when he realized what he’d seen and froze. He turned around and stared down to the bed where Sam lied on his back with Gabriel over his chest, like a blanket. Dean turned back and quietly walked out the room to meet Castiel.

“Why is my brother in the same bed as Ga- Luie?” the hunter questioned quietly, not expecting to receive an answer.

“Because-,” Castiel began speaking in a loud voice and Dean hushed him, making him tilt his head.

“Come on, let’s go outside,” Dean asked and made a gesture to the angel that followed.

“Do you know why my brother is sleeping with that dick?” Dean repeated his question outside, feeling his hairs on his arms stand on end from the cold night air that hadn’t been eradicated by the early sun.

“Yes.”

“Then why?”

“Gabriel placed some kind of barrier in Sam’s mind, and Sam is thanking him by sleeping with him, because Gabriel has found that he is unable to fall asleep without a second person,” Castiel explained and made the hunter even more confused as to how the trickster worked.

“Whatever.”

“You do not seem happy with this information,” Castiel remarked perplexed.

“No! Of course not!” Dean hissed, “Sammy’s just going to get close to him and get hurt, because that bastard is not friend-material.”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t refer to our Father as a someone who makes bastards.”

“What I mean is, Luie did one decent thing by keeping Lucifer busy long enough for us to get away, and Sam learn everything he could about Nordic mythology as a result. What do you think will happen once Ga- Luie get bored with us and leaves?”

“I am not sure.”

“Neither am I, but it won’t be good on Sammy.”


	20. Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas remembers, but Dean does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-04-29  
> Words: 3 700

The forest lay quiet, almost idyllic in the blistering sunlight. Huffed out breaths was the only thing that didn’t seem to belong. Bushes ripped in her jeans as she moved quickly through the undergrowth. The woman ran panicked through the forest, legs carrying her as fast as they could manage. Her foot hooked a tree root and she fell with a heavy thud. Hissing from pain she quickly got up and continued on her wild flight with bleeding knees. The shadow that hunted her crashed into her back and made her fall again. Teeth buried into her neck and the vampire eagerly drank.

Gabriel teleported to where Valentine was feeding off of his creation and tilted his head as he watched her hold down the struggling human. He clicked the stopwatch in his hands and saw that it only had taken the vampire thirteen minutes to catch up to the creation even though the creation had a five-minute head start of panicked running.

Valentine growled as she stopped feeding and threw her head back, gasping for air, unaware that she was being watched. It was a long time since she’d feed until fulfilment as it was a luxury she couldn’t afford with James. The human below her drew weak breaths, and she knew from experience that she wouldn’t survive very long.

The vampire sighed contently and then looked around, twitching as her eyes fell upon the god that had created her a victim.

“It’s Sam’s blood,” Valentine stated and stared at the pagan.

“Yes, I took some and duplicated it. It’s easier than making my own concoction,” Gabriel grinned as he’d gotten an answer to his first question and watched how Valentine blinked, clearly in a feeding haze.

“What do we do about that?” the vampire pointed to the body below her and Gabriel snapped his fingers, turning the fake human into ash.

“Nice, I see why they keep you around,” she grinned, making the archangel smirk back, intent on not revealing any unnecessary information about his team.

“Let’s get back to the others,” Gabriel then suggested and walked up to the woman. As he took her arm and pulled her up from the ground he teleported them back and felt a severe drain in his power; teleporting another soul was exhausting.

“Val,” James grinned as the two materialized and walked up to his vampire to give her a hug. Valentine nuzzled his shirt and sighed happily, full and content.

“Thirteen minutes,” Gabriel grinned as he walked up to the tall hunter and handed him the stopwatch.

“That’s good time, now we just need to find more vampires to compare it too,” Sam smiled at the trickster and then realized how dependent the test was on a creature of power, or a person willing to run.

“How are we going to check strength?” the hunter continued, thinking of how much attention they would draw if they went to a gym and tested different weights.

“Oh, Samsquatch, of course I’ve got a plan for everything!” Gabriel grinned and patted the hunter on his arm before turning to the fake agents, “if you two stop cuddling, we can continue.”

James let go of the vampire that grinned and expectantly looked to the pagan; excited over the tests.

“I’ll head over to the pier and go fish with Dean and that angel,” James said to Valentine and the woman nodded. Gabriel snapped his fingers as the man started leaving and conjured up a weight with a rope stuck to it. The woman sent an amused glance to the trickster before looking to the weight; she would easily lift that.

“Go ahead and try to lift it,” Gabriel made a gesture to the small weight and Valentine nodded before approaching it with confidence. The woman grabbed the rope and pulled, managing to get it a fraction off the Earth. She gasped, relaxed and then tried once more. Again, she only managed to get it a fraction into the air no matter how she struggled. Valentine gasped, relaxed and let the weight fall back to the ground.

“Very good!” Gabriel praised and clapped his hands, “you can lift almost 75 stones. The strongest humans can go up to about 80 stones.”

“75?” Valentine stared wide-eyed and looked down to the small weight, “that was 75 stones?!”

“Yes, the more you pulled, the heavier it got,” the trickster confessed and laughed at her bewildered look, “now let’s check which blood type you like the best!”

* * *

For a while Gabriel and Sam tested the vampire’s bite strength, her claws, counted her teeth and it was almost an hour later when Valentine collapsed on her back beside the three hunters that were fishing and groaned, almost painfully.

“That god has feed me too much. I can’t take another drop,” she moaned, making James grin at her and Dean scowl at the thought of drinking human blood.

“What did you test?” James wondered and saw how Valentine just tried to breath calmly.

“Everything,” the vampire smirked, “it was fun and apparently I like 0 positive best.”

“Aw, then it’s too bad that I’m A positive,” James mused and made the woman grin.

“You’re second best, but still delicious.”

“Thank you, sweetie, you know just how to make me feel happy,” James laughed and got back to fishing as Sam and Gabriel joined Valentine on the grass. Sam stripped out of his shirt and then lay down in the soft ground, feeling the hot sun bathe him and the warm winds cool him. Gabriel had gone back to the cabin to find his satchel full of candy and then happily sat in the sun beside the tall hunter, seemingly intent on devouring the bag’s contents as quickly as possible; he really needed to get some of his pagan powers back in case an emergency happened.

* * *

“So, Luie,” James spoke up after a while had passed, “who do we make an offering to in order to thank you on Val’s behalf? And what is a proper offering?”

“Trying to figure out who I am, are you?” Gabriel grinned and looked to the sneaky hunter.

“We already figured that you are a trickster by the amount of sugar you consume, but I would like to know who you are,” James confessed with a shrug and Gabriel appreciated his honesty.

“The name is Loki, Nordic god of Mischief,” the trickster admitted, “I appreciate baked goods, rare books, or other collectibles, but also like candy.”

“So you would be happy with a bag full of candy?” James asked surprised and heard the trickster laugh.

“Very happy, but if you find any more angel blades, feel free to sacrifice one to me. I love rare things. I’m somewhat of a collector,” Gabriel stated happily, “or any other rare thing you might come in contact with. Even if you want to get rid of it. Ingredients that some witch has used, souls in bottles. Give me something big and I’ll give something big in return.” The trickster winked to James that only seemed thoughtful.

“Dead creatures?” James then smirked.

“Not demon’s vessels, but if you find something that might be interesting I’d love to take care of it, like a unicorn,” Gabriel grinned, but then saw how Dean turned to him with a frown.

“What are you going to do with a dead unicorn?” the hunter wondered while looking to the trickster in suspicion.

“I’m thinking of making a museum,” Gabriel lied expertly but then decided to continue with a grain of truth, “I haven’t got a museum of creatures!”

“Whatever,” Dean muttered with a shake of his head and reeled in his fishing line.

The day was spent in the relaxed company of each other. Dean taught Castiel to fish and the angel found that he enjoyed it; he had the patience for it even though he only managed to get two fishes during the entire day. Gabriel had pointed out that there was a large school of fish to their right, so James had gotten eight large fish while Dean and Castiel continued to throw their lines straight into the water.

That evening, they grilled the fish and ate some fried potato with it. Dean was still reluctant to eat whatever the trickster made, but he had to confess that it was delicious, something that made the archangel beam at him. The two agents spent another night inside the cabin, drinking and talking long into the night with their hunter friends.

James and Valentine told a story of a siren that had tried to get Valentine to kill James, but her vampire instincts had been stronger than that of the siren’s pheromones. Vampires only chose one mate for life and Valentine’s instincts to protect James became greater as she got close to him. The story of how they then killed the siren left both Dean, Sam and Gabriel laughing hysterically while Castiel only looked into the wall, not understanding what was fun. The seraph closed his eyes and smiled, feeling how Dean’s soul radiated with happiness through their bond, and he remembered their first meeting.

A fraction of angels had carved out a path down to perdition. Demons loomed on every side. The Pit did not want to release the Righteous Man, vessel of Michael. If the angels failed to raise him from perdition Lucifer would certainly win the war. Castiel fought hard, slaying hundreds of demons, even going so far to use his wings to slice them to pieces. Castiel was tired and filthy when the angels finally reached the brightest soul in perdition, but to his surprise the brightest soul was fighting them together with Alastair. Uriel made a steep dive, landing in the field of blood, ash and fire.

“Come with me,” the angel had demanded from the soul covered in dark stripes, clearly on its way to become a demon. Dean lashed out with his blade of power, slicing Uriel’s chest open and made the angel shriek as he took flight and escaped to heaven to get healed by the Rit Zien.

A seraph known as Zophiel made a dive, dodged the sword of Alastair and then crashed into the two souls, sending them both flying in different directions. Demons approached to protect the Righteous Man and Castiel dove. His black wings flared out as he landed and his clawed feet burnt in the field, but he ignored it. With a wave of his wings, he sliced the demons that were approaching and coated his already filthy wings in their blood.

“Dean Winchester, we have come to raise you from perdition!” Castiel yelled out, angry as the soul tried to get away from him. As the soul now had no weapon, Castiel bent down and grasped it without consent, using his wings to slice at another set of demons that jumped away, but through the pure connection between a soul and an angel’s true form, Castiel knew what was wrong; Dean Winchester did not think he deserved to be saved and he did not believe that the creature in front of him was an angel, only another threat from the Pit, only another psychological torment.

“I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord,” Castiel whispered, keeping his human head towards Dean while his two others watched out for the demons surrounding them. Castiel folded his wings on his back, trying to trick the demons closer to him.

“Dean Winchester, I will take you to your family,” Castiel continued in his voice, seeing that the human soul was injured, bleeding and partially demonic.

The soul reached out for him and Castiel flared out his wings, cutting through demons as though they weren’t even there and felt how Dean smirked with him as the demons lost their lives. Castiel gripped the soul tight and beat his wings, getting away from the smell of blood and fire. He flew with the soul through the safe corridor the angels had made and kept open. Angels began to return to heaven and Castiel flew towards where he knew Dean’s body was, but before he reached it he felt hands caressing over his chest and slowed down.

The soul radiated warmly at him and it had grown even brighter as it stared at Castiel with complete awe.

“You’re gorgeous. The most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” Dean murmured and Castiel blushed.

“I am filthy; covered in demons’ blood, soot and ash,” the angel argued and stopped to hover in the air, confused by the conversation.

“Yes, the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen,” Dean insisted and Castiel gazed at the soul, as if seeing it for the first time and realized that the soul’s radiating warmth was filled with love directed at Castiel. Through the strong connection they had, Dean knew that the angel found him beautiful too, a bright radiating soul.

“Let me heal you,” Castiel murmured affectionately, never having been considered a beautiful angel with his only jet-black wings. The soul nodded and Castiel healed every wound he could find on the soul, exploring it gently with his grace. The soul tentatively reached out towards his strong, filthy wings. For a moment Castiel panicked, not wanting the soul to taint itself on his wings, but the pure wonder that flooded through their connection made him just wait and beat his wings. Wait for the touch. It was such a long time since his wings had been caressed and the careful touch to his wings as he beat them made sparks of want travel over his wing.

The soul reached out again and this time imbedded his hand in Castiel’s feathers, causing them to fall a bit before Castiel had his wings under complete control. The soul gasped, feeling what Castiel was feeling through their connecting bodies and held the angel close. Castiel landed with a shiver, not wanting to fall to Earth, but was then assaulted by a new sensation through their connection; lust. Dean held the angel with one hand around the waist and let his other trace a path towards the folded wings.

Castiel had been confused by the soul’s aggressive touches and movements; wasn’t he supposed to look like a monster to a human? He had three heads after all. One humanoid, one wolf and one lion. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the soul reached the base of his wings and dug his hands into his feathers. Castiel gasped, surging their connection with pleasure. Dean groaned and reached his other hand into the wing, doubling the sensation.

Dean removed his hands and pulled the humanoid head down, crashing their mouths together. Castiel was confused, even though he had been on Earth for long enough to know what was going on, he was confused. He’d seen humans mate. He knew that this was part of a humans’ mating ritual. Did the soul wish to mate with him? Anticipation made Castiel shiver and he happily opened his lipless mouth to let Dean’s tongue inside to play with his own. He was uncertain in his movements, but through their connected bodies he could feel the soul’s excitement so he worried less. Castiel caressed the soul that clung to him and felt how the hands left his face only to be buried in his wings. The wolf-head let out a small whimper at the touch, but he continued to kiss the hunter.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean sighed and pulled at the feathers in the angel’s wings, feeling the soot and grime; this angel was a true warrior; not afraid to get down and dirty, “so beautiful.”

Feeling how much the soul wanted him, Castiel decided to oblige. The soul wanted to mate with him. Knowledge rushed into his mind and he shivered at the pleasant sensation; how to mate the angelic way with a soul.

Castiel pulled the soul close and felt Dean place gentle kisses over his chest, causing sparks of shivers to run through him. The angel let his grace gently roam the human soul, feeling through their connection that the soul enjoyed it and wanted more. Dean’s hands found their way to Castiel’s wings again and combed through them, sparking a lust within the angel. Castiel sighed, unable to think clearly and let all of his grace caress the soul.

“Cas!” Dean called out and felt as though all of his body was touched, desire pooled in his stomach and he wanted to reward the angel, but didn’t know how. Unconsciously, Dean’s hands tugged in the feathers and caused a wave of pleasure to rush through their interconnected bodies. The soul’s power started to mix with the grace, making the soul cry out in pleasure. Through their touch the pleasure surged between them and allowed them to reach a high never experienced by either.

Through the haze of lust and affection, Castiel reached out for the soul and grasped the upper arm, burning a marking on the soul, bonding with it so that he would always be able to find it. Dean reached out towards Castiel to return the action.

 _‘Castiel! Resurrect the Righteous Man!_ ’

The ether echoed with the order and Castiel gasped in shock and terror. He was failing his duty to heaven! Dean hesitated as he could feel the angel’s shock through their touch as he hadn’t heard Heaven’s Horn blow out the order. Castiel took flight and quickly landed a few miles ahead where a group of angels waited for him. The soul stuck to him as he tried to return it to its body.

“Cas! No!” Dean struggled to stay with the angel; their bonding wasn’t finished and he didn’t want to leave just yet. It took three other angels and several wounds to peel the soul off of Castiel and into its body. They all then performed the ceremony to revive the dead hunter and left Castiel to guard him as the soul was clearly fond of him and injured everyone else.

Castiel grew sad from the memories, not understanding why Dean didn’t want him anymore despite his soul constantly reaching out for the angel.

* * *

Dean was the first to wake during the morning and immediately started making breakfast for them all as he wasn’t interested in eating Gabriel’s food. Sure, the archangel’s food was great, but who knew what he put in it?

The fake agents happily shared in the pancakes and was then waved off by the two brothers. Dean kept a smile on his face as the black FBI car vanished over a hill and then turned to his brother with and annoyed look.

“Why the hell are you and that arch-dick sleeping in the same bed?” he questioned even though he already knew what the angel had said, but he wanted to hear Sam’s version.

“He made a wall in my mind so that I’ll be able to sleep without so intense dreams, and he needs sleep, but can’t fall asleep without a second person. Do you see where this is going?” Sam answered equally annoyed, knowing that Dean would question it sooner or later.

“Yea, I get it, you signed some kind of deranged deal!” Dean growled while folding his arms and Sam scowled, hearing the disgust in his brother’s voice.

“That’s none of your business!”

“You’re my brother!”

“I haven’t been your brother since you got me possessed!”

“If I didn’t you would’ve died!”

“You should’ve let me die!” Sam argued and pushed past his brother, remembering how Death had promised to take him.

“Then you’d be dead! Go die then!” Dean yelled after him and huffed to himself, deciding to go buy some more beers even though they still had some.

Gabriel blinked, having heard everything through the window, and then looked to Castiel that seemed to be distant.

“How often do they argue like that?” the archangel questioned and felt worry stir in his mind; he’d seen Sam’s nightmares when he placed the wall. They were filled with pain, hell and Lucifer. Gabriel had seen things done to the human that made him cringe with unease.

“Usually every few weeks. Now it’s been almost half a year since last time,” Castiel answered and tilted his head, eyeing his brethren, “you seem concerned.”

“Sam just said that he wanted to die,” Gabriel explained and made Castiel frown.

“Yes, occasionally Dean will say that he never should’ve saved him in the first place and other times he’ll say that Sam is ungrateful and a son of a bitch, which technically would make Dean a son of a bitch too, since they’re brothers,” the younger angel furrowed his eyebrows, “now Sam will probably go for a run and Dean will listen to music, after they get back they will ignore each other until they are pleased.”

“Oh? I see,” the archangel hummed and held up his mirror again, letting the conversation die out. As the brothers had argued, Gabriel decided to not make any dinner to see what would happen, but his test was boring as Sam first showed up out of breath, took a bath in the river and then proceeded to make enough food for everyone. Sam then retired to the upped bed on the bunkbed and surfed on his computer. Dean showed up much later, bringing a few grocery bags. The older Winchester ate and took care of the dishes and then sat with Sam’s tablet in the living room together with Castiel. Gabriel had gone to his own bed when he heard the impala, thinking that Dean might try to throw him out of the bunker, and Gabriel was in no mood to argue with someone as stubborn as Dean Winchester.

Gabriel was happily surprised later that evening when Sam crawled into bed with him. For a while the large hunter lay awake and watched Gabriel use the mirror, but as he fell asleep he curled around the angel, making him start to purr.

They packed in silence and left the next day to return to the bunker. The Winchesters ignored each other to their best of their abilities during the car ride. Once they got home they unpacked the car without looking at each other and then headed inside. Dean stayed in his room while Sam returned to his most common place in the library. For a while he sat by his computer, but then decided that he rather wanted to search for all of the angelic impacts. Without making much sound, Sam took his computer and got up and walked over to the war computer and reversed the time so that he could watch the impacts happen.


	21. Olden days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody likes Gabriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-05-06  
> Words: 4 500

Two weeks passed by and the brothers started talking again, pretending that they never argued in the first place and acting as though they hadn’t ignored the other for the past weeks. They were once again searching for a case in the library.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the archangel that was calmly tapping away at the computer; he’d been focused for a while now and the old hunter was suspecting that he had a trail for something.

“Did you find a case?”

Gabriel’s eyes flickered up to see who the hunter was speaking to, seeing that it was him.

“No, I’m just searching for someone I used to know well,” the archangel mumbled and continued tapping on the keyboard; clearly chatting with someone.

“Who are you talking to?” Dean continued his interrogation, seeing the celestial’s lips turn upwards into a smirk.

“I’d say mind you own business, but I know you’re bored out of your mind.”

“Still, who?”

“I don’t know, a hunter I think,” Gabriel mused and hummed at the reply he received on the computer.

“How can you not know?”

“I’m on the darknet, Dean-o, we’re anonymous on this board. The site information is scattered all over the world, not even I can track it, well, if I flew I might be able to, but not right now. Naah, this is not a hunter, it’s a witch, looking to get more power, that’s why he or she is trying to get to my friend.” Gabriel laughed and winked at the older hunter, “you don’t want to know what happens when you piss off Mother Nature herself! Got to go now.”

With the sound of wings the trickster was gone, together with his computer, making the hunter huff annoyed; the only thing Dean had found was salt-and-burns, and it wasn’t what he wanted. The mark urged him to spill blood, so he wanted vampires or werewolves, or anything else that lived in packs.

* * *

Gabriel flew to his room and entered his secret storage to get some proper offerings for the goddess and then headed down to the garage to steal one of the cars.

* * *

Gabriel turned off the engine and got out of the vehicle. He had a camera around his neck and cautiously looked around for any traps. He was standing outside the car beside a house and a growing field of grass with the camera and a gray duffle bag over his shoulder. Satisfied that he couldn’t see or feel any traps he began to move, slowly walking up to the house, and then knocked on the door.

A man nearing the age of pension opened the door while drying his hands on a towel.

“Yes?”

“Hello, and you must be Mateo Rodriguez. My name is Lo Laufey. I’m a photographer, and would love to see the temple you built,” Gabriel happily requested and saw how the man’s face turned into a frown.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mateo stated with a troubled smile, “I haven’t built any temple.”

“So this isn’t you?” Gabriel picked out his phone and held it up, showing a picture of the man in an architecture paper, happily showing off his half-finished project.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Mateo lied and finished drying his hands on the towel.

“I believe it’s you, and I believe that temple stands somewhere on your land.”

“No, but if there were a temple om my land I would know about it,” the gray-haired man smiled and made a gesture inwards, “I’ve got food on my stove so good luck with your search.”

“No one but the worshippers can find the finished temple,” Gabriel stated as Mateo began to close the door and then froze for a second after registering the sentence.

“Good luck in your search,” the man stated with an amused smile, knowing that the stranger at the door wouldn’t be able to find it.

“I’m not going away!” Gabriel called out as the door gently closed in his face making him go over to the window to look in. Mateo obscured his sight and pulled down a pair of blinds, but not before Gabriel had seen a white, marble pot filled with water, telling him that he was at the right place.

For a moment Gabriel stared at the blind, but then huffed and walked around the house; the man _had_ given him the permission to search for the temple and he might just as well start with the back yard. An enormous garden took all of the space around him and he hummed approvingly as he looked around all the different kinds of foods; enough to feed several families for years and Gabriel knew that the man picked and sold much of his food at the local market during the Saturdays.

Large, lush apples hung from a tree and Gabriel studied them. It was too soon for them to have turned that ripe; it was just in the middle of summer. The apples should only just have flowered, not flowered, grown and ripened.

Each row of trees contained different fruits, but all of the trees were filled with dangling fruits. Just for the looks of it Gabriel took a photo, not even knowing if Mateo Rodriguez was watching him. He quietly explored the enormous garden, impressed that the man was able to take care of it by himself. Or rather, impressed until he passed a few decorative trees that contained a stronger life power than they should if they really were trees; nymphs. The man had help taking care of the garden if they lived there.

A field of growing pineapple, a small fishpond with rice growing around the edges, windshields where grapes and beans grew, several marble statues in different progress, hens walking around the garden, picking at bugs and worms. No wonder the nymphs had moved in. The man had created a small paradise for them, but Gabriel had no idea if he was aware of them or if they were working together.

Gabriel retreated to the car and waited for when the man was going to come out again, but that wouldn’t be until the day after.

* * *

“I’m not going to leave,” Gabriel greeted the man that stepped out on the porch with a cup of coffee just as the sun was coming up.

“I should buy a gun…” Mateo sighed and looked to the small photographer.

“This is private property,” the old man stated louder in a serious tone.

“Then have me arrested,” Gabriel grinned, knowing that if Ceres really was living there then she would’ve told her worshipper to keep a low profile.

“As this is private property any and all pictures you take will belong to me,” Mateo continued and Gabriel nodded, “come on in.”

The old man opened the door again and held it open for Gabriel. The man gestured for the archangel to sit down at the table and then brought out a folder. From the folder, the man pulled a paper and placed it in front of Gabriel. The archangel picked it up and saw that it was an agreement that the pictures couldn’t be published anywhere, in either the name of Mateo Rodriguez or any photographer. Gabriel couldn’t speak of the temple or the deal to anyone.

“I’m guessing that this agreement scares off most people,” Gabriel mused and saw how the man was crushing up something in a mortar.

“Yes, but how they are going to sign it scares them off further,” Mateo huffed to himself and brought out an ink bottle from a cupboard.

“Wait, let me guess, I’ll have to sign it in my own blood,” Gabriel guessed, knowing that there were strong blood spells that could be used on him if he did publish any pictures.

“A mixture of ink, herbs and blood, yes,” Mateo nodded and opened the ink bottle, but before poring it into the mixture of herbs he stopped to stare at the young-looking photographer. “Are you willing to sign the deal?”

“Yes,” Gabriel answered with a calm nod and watched how Mateo poured a bit of ink into the mixture before pulling out a drawer and brought out a small, red box. The old man placed the red box before the archangel and sat down beside him. Gabriel cautiously opened the box, seeing that it contained a small device used in hospitals to take blood sugar levels.

“It only takes a pinprick?” Gabriel questioned surprised and brought out the small device.

“Three drops of blood,” Mateo stated and the trickster nodded before pricking himself in the finger and held it over the bowl. He let three drops fall before placing the finger in his mouth and watched how Mateo stirred the ingredients. The old man turned around in his chair and reached out for a pen that he’d left on the counter and brought it to the table. The man unscrewed the pen, pulling out a gray filling pin that he dipped in the mixture, watching as it sucked up the liquid and turned darker. The man then put the pen back together and handed Gabriel the pen. The archangel signed the paper in a swift movement, writing down the name Lo Laufey, and made a mental note to steal the paper so that no one would have the blood of his vessel.

With the paper signed Mateo brought Gabriel out to the field of wheat, and beyond it to the forest. They had walked in the forest for half an hour when the lush bushes became filled with berries and trees filled with more fruit. Grape wines covered large parts of an otherwise white temple.

“You grow grapes out of season,” Gabriel remarked, making Mateo smirk.

“Here everything grows out of season,” Mateo stated and smiled at the temple he’d built for fun, but when it was half-finished a goddess had moved in and his crops had flourished. Everything had grown larger, sweeter and juicier. And he had begun to pray to her and her only.

Gabriel took no pictures, as that wasn’t why he was there. He nodded approvingly as he watched the temple from the outside and then followed as Mateo began to head inside. The archangel followed inside and nodded again. It was impressive that the man had built all of this.

Four statues of different kind of plants were placed along the middle path and Gabriel headed straight to the back. He walked up the few steps to a plateau. The statue of a goddess towered over a large pond. Gabriel got down on his knees as he opened the large bag. The farmer looked at him as he picked out a golden plate and began placing fruits on it. A branch of grapes, followed by a couple of citrus fruits, large berries and a golden apple. Gabriel walked around the pond and up to the statue, placing the golden plate by its feet.

“Ceres, my glorious goddess,” he bowed and then walked back to the stairs, “accept this offering as a token of friendship, and take one of Idunn’s golden apples as gratitude for the help you’ve given me in the past.” Gabriel waited for a few seconds and then frowned; he was certain that this was where she was, so why didn’t she show.

“You’re not a photographer, are you?” Mateo asked while he looked to the archangel.

“No, you can’t find the finished temple unless you’re invited,” Gabriel answered and started to doubt his own conclusion, maybe it was just a regular temple and not the home of the goddess. “Ceres? Demeter? You can’t hide in your pond forever and I’m not leaving!” he threatened and folded his arms over his chest, but nothing happened.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, you really seem like a true believer of my goddess, but this is private property and I won’t allow you to stay,” Mateo informed in a tired voice, “I don’t want any damage to this building, you probably understand.”

“Ceres, I need your help,” Gabriel said, ignoring the human’s comment and sat down on the floor cross-legged, “again…” The farmer sighed and began trimming different plants in large marble pots. Large, colorful fruits hung from the plants and after Mateo was done trimming them and throwing out the pieces he picked a few of each with great care and placed them in his basket.

“I’m sorry, but you have to leave now,” Mateo stated as he stood in the doorway to the temple, but as the man didn’t react he approached.

“Hey,” he said lowly as he placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and crouched down. “I don’t know what you want to happen, but you can come back tomorrow.” Gabriel only looked at the human, seeing kindness in his eyes and pulled out a lollipop.

“I can’t leave,” he stated and placed the candy in his mouth, “you’re a good man, and I won’t harm you, but you can’t make me leave.”

“What if I insist, and offer a bed at home?” Mateo wondered and made the archangel smile.

“No, but I’ll be here when you come back,” Gabriel patted the hand that was on his shoulder and vanished, making the human stare before backing away and running out of the temple. The archangel waited and carefully mended his wings while sensing how the egg nursed from his grace. While he concentrated on the healing he barely noticed that the sun went down and then came up again.

The doors carefully opened and the farmer looked inside, seeing that the vanishing man was sitting by a pot of tomatoes and leaned on it, seemingly sleeping. Gabriel’s eyes opened as he felt the soul’s presence and he hid both his wings and his grace away, despite knowing that neither humans nor gods could see them, and noticed that the man stood with a basket and a golden bowl.

“Good morning,” Mateo said as he cautiously entered and closed the large wooden door.

“Good morning,” Gabriel replied and stood up, “did you speak with her?”

“I did,” the man admitted and picked up a golden crown made of wheat, “you have to wear this.”

“Sure,” Gabriel stated and teleported to the man, making him jump. The archangel bowed to the man, knowing what the headdress was. It was bound with magic and it would prevent him from using any pagan powers. Mateo placed the crown on the head of who he now knew was another god, and watched it began to glow as it touched down.

Gabriel followed the farmer as he walked up to the platform and placed the golden bowl on an outcrop from the wall. Mateo walked over to the pond and kneeled before it, mumbling a blessing in Latin. As he pulled back the clear water in the pond cruised lightly and began to shine. The surface was broken as the goddess began to emerge. She could not be seen below the surface, and Gabriel knew exactly how the pond worked; it was the same kind of portal that he had in his room. A small golden tiara with green gemstones adorned the completely dry, blonde hair as she arose. A mixture of small roses, flowers, berries and wheat was adorning her long hair over her left side and Gabriel knew that it was actually a part of her, just like her locks. Green emeralds decorated golden earrings. As more of her was revealed Gabriel saw that she wore a white velvet dress, however, the shoulder-straps were made of several long leaves decorated with gold. Her neck had a few strands of gold woven over her skin, holding a tiny emerald. A heavy golden necklace with the same green emeralds rested on her chest with a single long chain ending in the crevasse of her breasts.

“Ceres, your new outfit is astounding,” Gabriel confessed with a bow as her green eyes opened to give him a long look. She said nothing as her elegant feet took graceful strides on the water’s surface. Mateo backed away in respect of the goddess and walked backwards down the steps. Ceres got to the edge of the pond and still stared at the angel.

“There was a rumor that you died,” the goddess said with a voice of silk. She looked apprehensive. “You died with Odin.” Gabriel clutched his hands behind his back and smirked playfully as he shrugged.

“When have the rumors of my death ever been true?” the trickster grinned, making the goddess sigh.

“One day it will be,” Ceres seemed on the verge of rolling her eyes, but stopped herself before taking a step down to the floor from the marble border of the pond and watched him with a thoughtful expression.

“Well, I actually came here to ask for your help,” Gabriel smiled innocently as the woman lifted off the crown of wheat from his head, now that she was certain that it was a friend. The crown vanished in her hands and she gently caressed the trickster’s cheek. She cupped his face with her hands and Gabriel quietly wondered if she was about to kiss him. The corners of Ceres’ lips moved up and she tilted her head, giving him a peaceful smile. The archangel felt a bit uncomfortable as the goddess never responded and just kept looking into his eyes, but he would never let it show.

“I’ve missed you. You never visit as much as you should, but I’m pleased that you’re alive and flourishing, Loki,” Ceres’ smile widened, showing white teeth and chuckled as she took a step back to look him over. The woman plopped down on the edge of the pond in a very un-goddess-like-manner. As she leaned her elbows on her knees and her head on her hands she grinned as if she knew secrets.

“Congratulations, Loki! You’re pregnant!” she chimed and made Gabriel gape in surprise.

“How the heck can you tell?” the wide-eyed angel asked.

“I’m the goddess of fertility, I can sense a young life forming within you. In your chest of all places, but I’m not one to judge. I helped Zeus attach his child to his hip,” she said as she stretched her back and crossed her flawless ankles, “are you going to ask something about the child?”

“Actually no, it’s about something else,” Gabriel fumbled awkwardly with his hands in his pockets and pulled up a crystal containing the large piece of Castiel’s grace that he had collected from Claire. He hesitated before handing it over. Neither of the gods cared for the human that was listening in on the conversation while watering the plants in the temple. Ceres hummed intrigued as she studied the object, feeling that it was full of life force. If it was released it would make the land around it bloom.

“What kind of help do you want from me?” the goddess wondered while she fiddled with the crystal. She hugged it to her cheek and closed her eyes; it was very powerful and she felt connected to it, but that was because she was a goddess of nature. Long ago she’d been known as Mother Nature, and some still called her that.

“I want your help to find any place which contains that particular power,” Gabriel stated seriously and sat down on the floor cross-legged, “I know that you can access any place on Earth where the grass grows, and that thing would make plants flourish.”

“Are you searching for this _kind_ of life force, or more of the _exact_ life force that’s captured inside this crystal?” Ceres asked and opened her eyes to stare at the trickster.

“That particular one. I don’t care how similar the power is, it has to be exact.”

“That will make things much harder. What’s the timeframe?”

“As soon as possible, and if there are no more on Earth I need to know immediately so that I can search elsewhere. No one can know that you’re searching,” the trickster insisted and saw Ceres give him a long stare, knowing that he was up to something.

“That’s some severe restrictions,” she informed and stared down on the crystal in her hand before she held it up between them, “I _know_ what this is. I know _what_ it comes from. And I know that _they_ are not pleasant to deal with.” The goddess pulled up the velvet dress, revealing a red slash across her leg that looked as if it was inflamed.

“I can’t get it to heal.” Ceres glared at him as he took the crystal back and placed a gentle hand over the injury. “I know that I should be running in the opposite direction, but I will consider helping you only if you put your hand into your bag full of tricks and can give me protection.”

Gabriel nodded and concentrated on the grace that he’d hid deep within him. The palm of his hand slowly began to glow, filling the room with light and as he removed it he saw that the wound was healed.

“Now, that’s much better for someone that isn’t a goddess of war!” Gabriel grinned and then felt as if someone had hit him over the head. Darkness enveloped him and he felt himself fall.

* * *

“-ki! Loki!” he heard as he woke up, lying on the floor where he had been sitting. Ceres was kneeling beside him and Mateo looked equally worried. At least he couldn’t have been out long.

“Sup?” he joked and was helped up to a sitting position by the human. “Wow! That felt, _not-very-good_ …” He shook his head and saw how the world stopped spinning.

“You healed me! Using _their_ power!” Ceres said as his eyes landed on her worried face.

“Yea, uh, I’ve picked up some new tricks recently,” Gabriel shrugged and then relaxed his body, seemingly fainting and was caught by the arms of Mateo.

“Loki!” he heard Ceres call out again and he opened his eyes to look at her weakly.

“I don’t feel so well,” he whispered in a pained voice and groaned pitifully.

“What can I do to help?” she wondered.

“I think I need,” Gabriel wheezed and placed a hand over his heart as he showed an expression of pain, “I need a kiss.”

He barely had time to finish the sentence before the goddess face turned from worry to annoyance and a small hand collided with his stomach.

“Loki, you bastard!” Ceres called out while Gabriel doubled over in pain and laughed wildly. “You’re such a nuisance! This is why nobody likes you!”

“Nonsense, everybody loves me!” the trickster grinned widely and he could hear how Mateo covered his own laugh with a coughing fit. The goddess got up from the floor and sat down on the edge of the pool once again. “For a fertility god, you really have a mean swing.”

“How would you like to get to know how awful it would be if nature turned against you? The angel that stabbed me was ripped in several pieces and is now fertilizing the ground,” she smiled sweetly and fluttered her eyes at him.

“Okay, I surrender,” Gabriel said and held up his hands, knowing that he didn’t want to become enemies with one of the few people that he knew could help him. “No more tricks!”

“Well, there better be more tricks in the future,” Ceres stated and folded her arms over her chest. “And those tricks better amuse me. Now, if you want me to help you search for your angel dust you better cough up a gift that _doesn’t exist,_ _and_ find a way to make sure this place is secure against those creatures, _and_ , prove that it’s secure.”

“That’s freaking impossible!” Gabriel called out, surprised by the harsh conditions; how was he supposed to take an angel and shove it against the angel-warding without it recognizing him or stabbing him? Should he lure Castiel to the temple? But the goddess might try to kill him, and he was weak enough as it was. “All of this because of the kiss-joke?”

“ _No_ , and _now_ I’m offended that you think so lowly of me,” Ceres stated in a sharp tone, “I _don’t want_ to help you! I’m _terrified_ of angels! I barely got away last time and now you’re asking me to go looking for anything that feels like them? Did you even consider that this might kill me?” The trickster seemed to deflate as he was scolded, not realizing that he was putting the goddess in danger. “The gift is for the kiss-joke and the amount of work I’ll have to do! And it better impress me, Loki!” For a moment the two gods stared at each other. Gabriel because he didn’t want to upset the goddess any more, and Ceres because she had nothing more to say.

“Okay,” he said after a while and got up from the floor, “I know how to angel-proof the temple, but how do you suppose I prove it? Do you want me to summon an angel and let him run rampant, hoping that he’ll prove that the building’s safe? Or do you want me to pick one up from angel depot and throw it at the temple?”

“The second plan, in a manner of speaking,” Ceres agreed with his plan even though it had been meant as a joke, “I know of an angel you can _throw_ at my temple and use to demonstrate.”

 _“What?”_ Gabriel gaped in shock as he stared at her, “you’ve got an angel tucked away in some box?”

“Not me,” Ceres grinned and waved her hand, “Dionysus. I suggest that you angel-proof this building and then convince Dionysus to borrow his toy. And in the meantime, think about how to make me an appropriate gift, and remember; the gift cannot be something I know exist.” Gabriel nodded, hoping that he could convince Dionysus to help him; if the god had managed to capture an angel without getting slain he knew something about them. How had the angel not been able to contact the others to get out for example? Or was it even an angel?

Gabriel left the temple after placing the common sigils over it, the kind angels could see and was used to, just as the goddess grew a marble seat and sat down to eat the fruit in the golden bowl. The human kept throwing glances to him as they left and the archangel smirked.

“You seem curious,” Gabriel commented and saw the man turn his head away with a snap, “ask.”

“Are you Loki, as in the Avenger’s Loki?” Mateo wondered and made Gabriel laugh.

“That’s just a movie and I would _never_ destroy the world; that was just a stupid joke among us gods, but I am Loki, the Nordic God of Mischief,” the archangel confessed with a grin.

“And angels, they’re real?” the man’s question made the god’s smile vanish.

“Angels are not like in the stories you tell your children. They look down on everything that isn’t themselves and squashes whatever gets in their way. Luckily, they think of this place as too filthy to walk on. They prefer their own place. Well, most of them are just dicks with wings. There are good angels though. Angels who loves humanity and all creatures here; they think we’re cute, just like we think puppies and kittens are cute,” Gabriel admitted with a small nod.


	22. A Gift that Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Dean bond. Gabriel contacts an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-08-06  
> Words: 5 000

Once Gabriel finally made his way back to the bunker he was faced by a very annoyed Samuel Winchester, who gave him an earful of what they thought of him vanishing for a few days meant. Gabriel had just awkwardly stood there, waiting for the human’s anger to blow over and thought of the phone that he’d promised to bring with him if he went out. But what had happened was that he’d forgotten the phone as it wasn’t something that he usually had. If he really wanted to communicate with some pagan or old friend he would usually find them or contact them through a completely functioning smoking mirror.

For a few days, he stayed in the bunker, listening to Castiel governing the angels and sometimes suggested compromises when an argument ensued while he at the same time tried to think of a gift that he could create or have someone else create for him that wouldn’t become too powerful in the hands of an enemy.

Gabriel sat on the couch, drawing on a few ideas with Dean beside him watching some series while Sam and Castiel sat by the table. Dean suddenly leaned forward and studied the drawing Gabriel had made.

“Is that supposed to look like a car?”

“Maybe,” Gabriel shrugged, knowing that it only was a rough sketch with a few lines and knew that Ceres probably wouldn’t even appreciate a car that could convert into a fighter jet, but Gabriel had watched transformers early in the morning and it was one of the ideas.

“Why are you drawing a car?” Dean continued curiously and took a swipe of his beer, making the archangel roll his eyes.

“It’s a car that can convert into a fighter jet,” Gabriel explained and switched paper.

“You touch Baby and I’ll fry your ass in holy oil. I don’t care if she can turn into a fighter jet afterwards; I don’t want your sticky angel-fingers all over her,” the Winchester muttered lowly and made the archangel roll his eyes again.

“I’m not interested in your impala,” Gabriel confessed and scowled at the picture before crunching it to a ball.

“Why are you drawing a jet car?” Dean then continued to question the archangel, curious as to why the archangel was even drawing something on paper.

“Because I need to make a gift for a friend.”

“The same friend that you went to visit?”

“Yes.”

“Did you manage to piss off Mother Nature?” Dean smirked amused, remembering what the archangel had been looking for.

“No, I need her to do something for me, so in exchange she demanded something for her work.”

“And you think _Mother Nature, a chick_ , would appreciate a jet car?” Dean wondered in a condescending voice, “then you’re dumber than you look.”

“No…” Gabriel scowled at the hunter, “well then, if you’re so smart, come up with something that ‘doesn’t exist’. That was the only requirement. A gift that doesn’t exist. Go ahead!”

Dean rolled his eyes at the childish archangel.

“First, what were your other ideas, before I bless you with my knowledge of chicks.”

Gabriel huffed amused and brought out all of his sketches from his inner pocket. He placed them on the table and started with the first one.

“An ornate staff of life,” Gabriel began and placed the drawing in front of Dean, making the hunter stare shocked at the colorful drawing.

“ _You_ drew this?” Dean asked shocked and picked it up.

“Yea, I can draw, whoopty fuckin’ doo,” the archangel stated and massaged his temples, feeling tired and he was developing a headache from lack of sleep, something he didn’t particularly enjoy.

“No need to be a douche about it,” the hunter muttered back and studied the picture, “what can it do.”

“Give life to the area around it and suck life out of anyone it’s stabbed into. I was going to fuse it with my celestial powers, but it’s too powerful in the wrong hands. I can’t give it to Ceres in case she loses it. I doubt she would, but I can’t risk it.”

“Yea, it’s a great gift,” Dean stated and nodded as he was handed another piece of paper, this time with what appeared to be an ornate sword.

“A weapon?” Dean asked with annoyance, “for Mother Nature? Are you retarded?”

“No,” Gabriel said calmly and continued, “she is afraid of angels, and that’s a remade angel blade so she can defend herself, but at the same time I don’t want to give away something that can kill angels. There might be douchebags among them, but they aren’t all douchebags, and they certainly weren’t when we grew up, and I still remember them running around and playing tug with each other.”

“You mean ‘playing tag’?” Dean wondered and took a drink from his beer.

“No, ‘tug’,” Gabriel grinned and remembered the small angels running around in heaven, “they chased each other and tugged each other’s tails.”

Dean almost choked at the statement and gave the angel a serious look.

“Angels have tails?” he asked with surprise.

“Yea, we have tailfeathers, but when we aren’t in flight we wrap them around so it becomes a tail, easier to keep clean,” Gabriel shrugged and Dean tried to imagine the trickster with wings and a long tail.

“Right… Next idea,” Dean shook his head and was handed another paper, with scribbles all over, making the hunter sigh, “what is this?”

“That’s an enchantment to another dimension, I have it in my pocket, under the skin in my hand and I use it to store things. However, there is a possibility that she knows that this exists,” Gabriel shrugged, “she’s been hanging out with Dionysus, according to my mirror, and he has one of those pocket dimensions.”

“I see,” Dean nodded approvingly, “a space purse for a lady, that’s a great idea, but I would say that she probably already knows it, or have something similar.”

“How the heck would you know, you’ve never even met her,” Gabriel snorted and Dean shrugged.

“Does she have a purse with her wherever she walks?” Dean questioned and Gabriel shook his head.

“No, she hasn’t. Purses aren’t very godlike,” the archangel explained patiently.

“Then she probably has some kind of pocket dimension where she keeps her belongings,” Dean insisted and Gabriel took back the paper and crunched it together, knowing fully well that that could very well be the case.

“Okay, this looks nice,” Dean stated as Gabriel handed him the next picture of a ring with a large green emerald, “what does it do?”

“I would call it the Tridaemen; it turns the wearer into an eagle,” Gabriel stated and Dean hummed.

“Not good,” he shook his head.

“Why?” Gabriel wondered, knowing that Ceres would love to be able to fly like Freyja, though Freyja became a falcon with her Falcon Cloak.

“Because she would never be able to wear the ring just for the heck of it, and if she was in trouble, putting on a ring is eye-catching,” Dean stated knowingly and Gabriel rolled his eyes, knowing the hunter was right. “If you instead had to turn the gem to become an eagle it would be better.”

The hunter nodded to himself and placed the paper on the table on top of the staff of life, deciding to create a pile of good ideas while leaving the rest out of it. Dean looked expectantly to Gabriel and then realized that the angel didn’t have any more papers.

“No more ideas?” Dean asked surprised and Gabriel pouted.

“Only of armor and weapons,” the archangel confessed with a shrug, “most of which is way too powerful for Loki to have created, so I have to make up a story for how I got them.”

“She is Mother Nature, a chick, it doesn’t have to be advanced,” Dean stated and looked to the angel, “give her flowers.”

“Might I repeat myself; the thing can’t exist. Flowers do exist,” Gabriel snorted.

“Chicks like flowers and chocolate,” Dean stated.

“Could you be any more sexist?” the archangel heckled, but the hunter ignored him.

“Combine the two you powerfully idiotic arch-dick. Flowers that bloom small chocolates. Neither powerful nor a stupid gift for Mother Nature.”

“Ah,” Gabriel tilted his head as he began to think of it; it was a great idea and Ceres would definitely appreciate flowers that bloomed small chocolates, like berries. It was also a very trickster-y plant and a perfectly Loki-ish gift.

“That’s… actually a great idea,” Gabriel confessed and then started to draw.

“Told ya’, I know chicks,” Dean stated and returned to watching his series while contently drinking his beer.

Once Gabriel was done designing the flowers he was exhausted and gently crawled into Sam’s bed. The hunter hummed and woke up.

“Gabriel,” Sam murmured and then wrapped an arm around the archangel before falling asleep again. Gabriel felt the warmth underneath the blanket and started to purr as he fell asleep. The next day Gabriel woke up from a nightmare, realizing then that the bed was empty and his source of warmth was gone. The archangel found Sam sitting in the couch watching the news and then returned to his room to create the flowers, which he’d named Blomon Cacao. As he wanted it to live on its own without his involvement he slowly created its networks of roots, followed by thick stems, thick enough to hold up several flowers with small chocolate balls on them. For fun, he made the yellow flower petals able to melt in direct sunlight. The flower petals were going to taste of vanilla and the pistil was going to consist of a chocolate ball containing melted chocolate. Gabriel happily tasted one and decided that it was a perfect gift. Now it was just the second part of his plan.

Getting in contact with Dionysus would be easy, but how would he convince the Greek to move an angel. For all Gabriel knew, Dionysus might just have the celestial in a ring of holy fire, but how was he stopping the angel from calling out to the others? Gabriel doubted that his old friend knew the Enochian sigils to disrupt the connection to the ether and he could never see Dionysus inserting iron spears into another being’s head, nor allow anyone to do it for him.

Dionysus wasn’t the kind to harm another being, or let harm come to another, not even his enemies. He’d heard that the Greek God of Wine could fight and could wreck disaster when he wanted. According to rumors Dionysus literally danced with his enemies, driving them mad and confused with his magic, but Gabriel knew it had to do with the substances that the god excreted though his skin and he didn’t have as much control over it as he wanted. Stress and terror turned Dionysus into a toxic bomb of madness, effecting anything and everything. Animals, insects, humans, gods, angels. They were all equal under the effect of Dionysus even though some took longer to affect than others. Gabriel knew this from experience.

The only time Gabriel had ever been affected and seen what the Greek god could do was when both of them had been caught by a band of hunters, a couple of witches and a warrior god. The rogue band had less interest in Dionysus than they had in the trickster known as Loki, and Gabriel had been surprised by the strength of the magic binds when he failed to get a hold of his grace. The witches had with the help of the god made sure that he was unable to come in contact with his pagan power, but it had inadvertently affected the celestial portion of him. The magic shackles had caused him pain whenever he tried to reach his powers, but he hadn’t given up. His grace reacted to him even behind the magic wall, attacking it from behind and beginning to sip though as he called for it, trashing from the pain that the destruction of the wall caused him.

When he tore through the shackles, ready to fight for his and Dionysus’ freedom he was greeted with a bloodbath. Every person that had been in the clearing was ripped to shreds. Blood colored the grass red, glistening in the sunlight with each breeze. Intestines and organs littered the soaked ground and Dionysus was hacking at the carved stone sigil with a sword, unaware that Gabriel was not held by it.

“Dion?” he asked and stared shocked at the god that had his hands and feet covered in blood, but was otherwise as clean as ever.

“Loki? Are you okay?” his Greek friend, and at the time, lover, looked at him worriedly.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” Gabriel nodded and looked to his wrists where the iron shackles had been. The skin on his wrists were burnt black and he could see that it was cracking to reveal equally charred meat underneath. The black skin covered him from the middle of his fingers up to his elbows. He was in pain and he could see the damage to his bones; if he wasn’t careful his hands could literally fall off. The archangel moved away from the rock and further from the ominously smoking chains that had held him.

“Oh, Loki,” Dionysus wrapped him in a careful embrace, afraid to hurt him further and buried his head in the hair by Gabriel’s neck, “you just kept screaming, and screaming, and they laughed.”

“It’s okay, Dion, it’s okay,” the archangel mumbled and soothingly rocked his lover as he was unable to caress him without worsening his injuries. He was pretending to be a trickster and that unfortunately made him unable to heal his wounds in an instant, but if his hands fell off he’d just have to regrow them and lie that he found help from a witch or other immortal. “What happened here?”

“They laughed,” the Greek god growled menacingly and tightened his hold of Gabriel, “I don’t need my powers to bring madness. I ordered the witch closest to me to free me and she did as she was affected first. With the help of my free powers everyone became frenzied and killed each other. Begtse just watched, unaware that he was no safer than the humans. Before I ripped his heart out I asked him why he was helping capture other gods and he answered since he was touched by my powers. I mean, Begtse’s supposed to be one of the good guys, but apparently the Dharmapalas has received an order that you are a monster if you aren’t a Himalayan god, so the warriors are being sent out. When I took his heart a sharp sound came. I’ve never heard anything like it. It was so loud, but then it just stopped and everyone was dead. We need to get you healed up, and then everything will be okay.” The Greek god sighed the last sentence, as if trying to convince himself more than anything, and then pulled away to look into Gabriel’s eyes with a worried frown and cupped his face, tilting his head and studied him. “The madness should’ve affected you too, why aren’t you going into a frenzy?”

“I’m already as mad as I can get and you can’t make me any worse,” Gabriel joked with a grin as he could smell the hazardous molecules in the air and at the same time feel the rapid heartbeat in his vessel, the adrenalin that ran through his veins together with Dionysus’ power and the increased heat it caused, but he didn’t feel as though his grace was affected by the immortal’s power and assumed that it would remain so no matter how crazy his vessel was. He was an angel after all, and _he_ was in control of his vessel, _not_ the other way around.

“Yea, that would be it,” Dionysus chuckled back, but still remained worried, knowing and sensing that madness was indeed coursing through his lover’s body even though he seemed untouched by it, “let’s get you back to Hierapolis. The springs will help you heal and I have friends whom I trust. We can also send a message to Zeus from there.” Gabriel nodded as Dionysus backed away and clapped his hands together, creating a leopard the size of a horse with shining violet eyes. The large cat lay down on the ground and eased their mount, and then took off with Gabriel in front of Dionysus, allowing the Greek to hold into the fur on the leopard’s neck while making sure that the trickster remained safely in his seat between his arms.

It hadn’t been long before Gabriel closed his eyes in a reflexive blink and then opened them confused. He felt bruised and battered and he’d lost a considerable amount of grace. He was alone, naked, covered in snow and his injuries were healed. The icy wind whipped up flakes from the ground as he got up, unmoved by the frigid temperatures and took a deep breath while he let his consciousness expand. Ice and snow stretched far around him and the only thing he felt was the minds of a polar bear and some seals, meaning that he was currently in the Arctic. How he’d gone from the back of a leopard to the Arctic was a mystery. It remained a mystery even as he got back to a worried Dionysus and got to know that he’d just vanished from the Greek’s embrace and had been missing for a couple of hours. The archangel made an educated guess that angels too could be affected by madness, who knew…

He later regained the memories of what he’d done during his blackout, recalling levelling large parts of the Himalayan mountain range in search for whoever had harmed Dionysus, causing Michael to show up and fight him, but the older archangel had realized that there was something wrong with him. Michael had dragged him to the Arctic and pinned him to the snow outside his vessel to heal him, but full of insanity he had proceeded to hug, caress, and sexually molest the older angel and his wings, declaring his love for the older angel. Every time Gabriel remembered what he’d done he groaned ashamed and recalled the unbelievably awkward apology he’d given to the oldest archangel. To say that Michael wasn’t impressed by his performance of pagan-caused madness was a serious understatement, but his elder had promised to not speak of it.

* * *

Gabriel bit his lower lip as he sat on his bed in the bunker, staring at the mirror to his storage while he thought of what to gift. Now on the list was Dionysus, as he needed to use the Greek’s pet angel to get Ceres to feel safe. The archangel sighed and then jumped off the bed and went up to the mirror. His pagan power filled up the faulty groove with bee’s wax and seemingly nothing happened, but Gabriel knew otherwise and placed his hand on the glass, feeling it sink in slightly and was then drawn to another dimension.

As he pulled away his hand he faced his storage, lit in a dusky glow to make it ominous. Gabriel jumped, causing normal lights to turn on before heading inside. He flew gently through the holes and then landed by his wine cellar.

The archangel pulled out a crate and checked the content, making sure that it was the mead of Heidun and added a single bottle of the rare skalde mead, now he only had one left. Dionysus might be a wine god, but he definitely had the ability to appreciate any kind of beverage and hopefully he would be impressed by the skalde mead with its golden glow and inspirational abilities. Gabriel didn’t really want to get rid of it, but as it was rare, Dionysus would trade much for it.

Gabriel made his way back to the exit in the library with the dangerous magical books and ignored a pile of things he’d collected - _stolen-_ from the bunker. He picked up the phone from the night stand, seeing that it had a small green light shining from it, showing that it had finished charging and walked out of his room, heading for the library to tell his bunker-mates that he was heading out again.

As he entered the library, both Castiel and Dean were sitting on the couch, watching some action sequence as there were sounds of gunfire and explosions.

“Yo, Dean-o, where’s your giant of a brother?” Gabriel wondered while he placed the bottles on the floor and looked over the closed laptop and closed books on the table, clearly abandoned.

“Don’t know. In some storage or something,” the older Winchester shrugged and turned to look at the archangel, eying the wooden crate by his feet, “what’s that?”

“Mead,” Gabriel grinned and then picked up two bottles. The trickster walked up to them and placed the two bottles on the table, “nectar of the gods, _literally_. Drink it with reverence.”

“Like hell I’m drinking anything _you_ bring me,” Dean snorted, but still felt interested in the drink.

“Your loss,” Gabriel shrugged indifferently, “but that mead seems to be good enough for the Vikings in Valhalla. So maybe it’s just for real warriors then…”

“Are you serious?” the hunter looked to the turquoise glass bottles, ignoring the pique and picked one up, knowing that he couldn’t drink it since it came from _the trickster_ , “why are you giving me this?”

“As a small ‘thank you’ for picking me up after my less-than-fantastic landing,” Gabriel declared, lying as he had just felt like giving it away, but he knew that the hunter would never touch it if he had no reason. The clinking of a spoon in a porcelain cup reached his ears and the archangel turned to see Sam exit the kitchen while absentmindedly stirring his cup.

“Speak of the devil, or his vessel,” Gabriel greeted the younger Winchester with a joke and Sam ignored him in favor of the crate and watched it with interest as he approached.

“What’s this?” Sam repeated his brother’s question and studied the old bottles, feeling his eyes drawn to the only one that was glowing golden and was encased in intricate patterns of silver and gold and decorated with precious stones of different kinds. He could see carvings in the silver and gold and recognized them as Old Nordic runes.

“Mead,” the trickster grinned as the large man tilted his head, almost radiating with curiosity.

“They look old,” Sam commented as he walked over to the table in the library to place down his cup of tea and then returned to the bottles to examine them, first going for the fanciest of them which was glowing golden, but as he touched it he felt as if it was almost too hot to hold.

“They are, but the mead inside will never get old. It’s the mead that is drunk in Valhalla,” Gabriel smirked as the hunter quickly returned the skalde mead and picked up one of the turquoise bottles, “you can have one of those.”

“Mead from Valhalla…” Sam mumbled and tilted the bottle as he studied the liquid inside, but then looked up to the trickster, “it’s not Heidun’s mead, is it?”

“Oh, impressive. You’ve studied,” Gabriel nodded approvingly, now knowing that the hunter had read up on the Nordic mythology thoroughly and not only read the interesting parts.

“You know what kind of mead it is?” Dean asked shocked and then snorted amused before he continued affectionately, “nerd…”

“Well, _someone_ died for us, so I thought of honoring his memory by finding out more about Gabriel, or Loki,” Sam mumbled a bit embarrassed.

“He didn’t die,” Castiel chimed in.

“I thought he did,” the younger hunter stated, knowing that Gabriel really had died, but wished for it to remain secret. He decided to switch topic fast, “but, what’s in the other bottle?”

“That’s very rare, very valuable mead. It’s one of the last bottles of skalde mead. _Not_ for human consumption. Do you know what that is?” the trickster questioned and watched as the hunter’s face scrunched together in concentration.

“I recognize the name, but I can’t place it,” Sam confessed after a few seconds and looked to Gabriel, waiting for him to explain.

“It was made by two dwarves and stolen by a jotunn. Odin worked for Bauge in exchange for a taste, but Bauge betrayed him so Odin stole all of it. When he got back we had one mean party…” Gabriel grinned and reminisced in his fond memories of how he’d praised the god’s action.

“You mean the one that Odin swallowed and then spit out to give to the other gods?” Sam asked with disgust and made Gabriel laugh.

“Not everything that is written is true, but yes, that story talks about that mead. Humans didn’t understand never-ending-bottles, so they thought Odin drank it.”

“Oh, sure,” Sam nodded to himself and forced himself to not touch the glowing bottle again, “what are you going to do with them?”

“I’m going to trade with a friend, an old friend,” the archangel confessed.

“Do we get to gank him afterwards?” Dean asked, wanting to taunt the trickster, and received a scowl in reply.

“He might be a god, but he’s a nice guy. I know you hunters don’t meet nice immortals as you go after the ones that kill, but there are tons of kind immortals.”

“You’ve got your phone with you?” Sam wondered before a new mocking contest began.

“Mhm,” Gabriel nodded.

“You’re not planning on flying, are you?” the younger Winchester gave him a firm glare, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, since I’m better now,” Gabriel stated, but faltered under the unwavering gaze.

“What if you crash again? Your phone would burn to crisp. We won’t know that you’re fine, and how long will you be gone?”

“Wow, relax, you’re way too protective.”

“Gabriel,” Sam stated firmly and glared, “you’re not living alone. We will protect you as you protect us. We cannot do that if you just vanish for an uncertain amount of time. When do we start searching for you? Where are you going? What happens if you crash half-way?”

“Okay, I get it,” Gabriel interrupted as he saw that the hunter was going to continue if he didn’t, “I’m heading for California, that’s all I know for the moment. I’ll turn on the GPS in my phone so you’ll be able to track me and know my approximate location if I go missing, which I doubt. I’ll take a car and I’ll call once a day, but if I forget, you can call me any time since I’m visiting friends. As I’m not going to fly I will be gone for a couple of more days than planned, but I might be gone at most a week in total.”

“You’re not taking Baby,” Dean stated from the couch and leaned back, “but any of the other ones will run smoothly. I’ve checked them out and fixed them up on the inside.”

“No worries, Dean-o, I’ll just-,” Gabriel snapped his fingers, causing a modern, midnight blue, BMW to appear inside the garage. It was discreet compared to the eye-catching sports cars he otherwise enjoyed. “But thank you for the offer. I appreciate the gesture.”

Dean nodded and Gabriel turned to the younger hunter. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry too much.”

Sam gave him a considering look and then nodded. With the sound of wings Gabriel had taken the crate and headed into the garage. He realized that the younger Winchester had been right; flying drained him quickly of energy and just going around his storage and now inside the bunker made the appendages ache. His grace was too weak and he quickly drew his wings inside his body.

He drove for an hour before he pulled out a black, stone tablet from the compact dimension inside his jacket’s inner pocket. It was ten centimeters wide and twenty centimeters long. There seemed to be nothing magical about it, but as Gabriel touched it and willed it to activate, white lines appeared around the edges.

‘I want to see you.’ He filled the message with desire and lust, knowing that Dionysus would love the feeling of the sentence and more likely meet him if he was a needy mess.

Gabriel was ready to wait a few days as he didn’t expect Dionysus to answer immediately since the two gods and Gabriel’s children were the only ones that could use them and as the Greek couldn’t keep an eye on his tablet at all times. The tablets prevented anyone to listen in on their conversation when they revealed their locations. The mirrors that most other pagans used could be hacked. It was hard and time-consuming, but not impossible, and happened all the time as gods tended to have worshippers, a lot of enemies and wanted to make sure no one was plotting against them.

Not even five minutes had gone by before the tablet on the passenger seat glowed white around the edges and then returned to being a boring, black stone. Gabriel reached over and lazily draped a few fingers over the surface, absorbing the message.

‘I always have time for you, Lo-ve,’ Dionysus voice murmured in his head, making Gabriel smile. He sounded pleased, eager and a little smug. ‘I can’t wait to see you again. Are you anywhere in California?’

‘I’ll reach California in about a day. Any specific city you want to meet in?’ Gabriel asked, knowing that Dionysus had hideouts around the world. Everything from barns, cottages, sewer pipes and normal houses, but he preferred living in his mansions.

‘Head for San Francisco. I’m currently just outside the city.’

‘Oh, I can’t wait,’ Gabriel purred darkly in the message, and sent the feeling of a predatory hunger with it. He received no message with the reply, only thrilled delight.


	23. Outside inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel flirts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-08-14  
> Words: 4 400
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and your kudos, it really makes me want to write more! :D

The archangel let his mind expand as he drove along a highway. No celestial would care about him if they sensed him as he didn’t look like an angel to them. He would only appear to be a strange immortal with an impressive mind range, or a witch. Gabriel took a grip around the car with his pagan magic, grateful for the movies, books and comics that contained Nordic mythology and mentioned him. He anchored his mind a couple of miles ahead where there were no traffic and teleported the car with him. He sensed the amount of power it had taken and sighed. If he wanted to be able to protect himself and the egg he would not be able to teleport as it drained him too much. He pulled his mind back inside his vessel and exhaled tiredly; teleporting with pagan magic was easy, but everything angelic caused him to grow drained and he had had to concentrate hard to keep his consciousness so wide from his vessel while hiding his angelic self. He would have to settle his boredom by driving like a complete maniac, but it did cut his travel time in almost a third and he easily got rid of the police with a little help from his pagan magic. It wasn’t easy to chase a car that could vanish and change both color, model, make, and registration.

As he got near San Jose, to the south of San Francisco, Gabriel sent a message with his location, quickly receiving a reply with an address. Last times they had met had been in a forest, a hotel and at Hades’ place. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t a huge mansion behind an enormous wall and a defended gate. One of the guards exited the booth and came up to his car, bending down to look in through the opened window.

“Oh, a satyr as a guard?” Gabriel asked with a grin as he smelled the familiar scent of Thomas, a man he’d met at Hades’ together with Dionysus, and caused him to freeze in shock of being found out. The archangel knew that the horse-like creatures preferred time-consuming dining and bedroom activities, but they were stronger and faster than humans and could fight fiercely despite their peaceful nature. “I thought fauns usually had guard duty.”

“Hello there, Loki. You know, when the Advent happened, Dionysus wanted people to be with their families or go into hiding. No one is forced to stay or come back, so we make due with the people we have. I’m sure Master Dionysus won’t mind filling you in,” the middle-aged man smiled gently and straightened his back, nodding to the other guard inside the booth. The gates opened and Gabriel drove inside.

He went around a large hedge that kept the entrance hidden from the street and drove up to it, seeing a faun waiting for him beside the door. His animalistic leanings were completely visible for the world and he carried a grey shoulder bag on his side. The man had large, light brown horns from the top of his head that curled out, shifting into copper and orange. Two smaller horns had also begun to grow out from the same base. The man’s hair was thick and white as newly fallen snow, almost blistering in the sunlight together with his down-turned ears. His mature, angled face was shaved, save for the thick, white hair that grew from his bangs along his jaw. The fur on his legs had the same pure white and it was only around his silver-colored hooves and groin that the color of the fur went towards a light grey.

Gabriel stopped the car in front of the stairs to the mansion and got out, watching how the faun held himself with unblemished dignity as he walked down the stairs.

“Great Loki, Nordic God of Mischief, I am Hesiod, your humble servant. May I bring your vehicle to the garage?” the faun asked from the other side of the car in a light voice when he got down the stairs and bowed his head deeply in respect and kept his ears down angled, knowing that some gods could be extremely sensitive to anything they considered impolite, and even though his Master, Dionysus, disapproved of any harmful or violent action against his subjects it would do little to Hesiod if he had been slain.

“You may,” Gabriel answered and saw that Hesiod kept his eyes to the ground before him when he straightened, “and you can look at me. I won’t harm you.”

“I am eternally grateful that I, a lowly faun, may gaze upon you, Loki, Greatest of them all,” Hesiod stated and turned his eyes to Gabriel’s, allowing the archangel to see that his eyes were ice blue and sharp, cautions of any outburst that could come his way.

“Drop the bullshit, I’d prefer it if you could treat me more like an equal,” the trickster grinned, trying to get the faun to relax and saw how Hesiod tilted his head slightly, surprised by meeting another god that had let go of the old ways.

“Then I will,” Hesiod nodded as the tenseness of his shoulders vanished and he walked around the car, “is there any luggage you wish me to bring in?”

“Nah, but,” Gabriel grinned slightly and glanced to the horns that protruded from the faun’s head, “I know it’s a very rude question, but may I touch them?” Hesiod made a shocked noise in the back of his throat, sounding much like a goat as he was surprised that a god was aware that it was a vulgar thing to ask between fauns, and surprised that a god had been respectful enough to ask in the first place. Even his favorite visitors among Dionysus’ associates usually just reached out and touched if they wanted to.

“You may,” Hesiod whispered and Gabriel could see the disbelief in the faun’s eyes at his question, but he grinned happily and reached out to examine the horns. Hesiod bent down to let the shorter man reach and swallowed nervously. He was well aware that the creature in front of him could snap his neck with ease and even rip his head clean off his body with his bare hands. Loki might not appear to be frightening and Hesiod’s instincts didn’t react to him, which was a strange sensation since almost all other creatures outside his circle of familiarity made him either prepared for a fight or feel the need for flight.

“Nice deep ridges,” Gabriel murmured as he held a gentle grip into one of the horns and trailed his fingers over the grooves on the other, “even width of them, healthy color, striking curvature.” The archangel scratched on the horn, listening to the sound. “Good strength, but I suggest more watercress or dandelion greens. If I were you I’d add a bit of almond and citrus fruits to your diet. It’ll harden them further, and prevent any outer chipping. The small pins make you look very noble and they truly do have an excellent shine. Rare white coat, and an unusually smooth fur. I bet the fauni are all over you,” Gabriel released the horns and gave the faun a wink, seeing that he was blushing profusely at the admiration.

“You’re remarkably familiar with faunic physique, Loki. But those days are over for me, and unfortunately being rare is not a good thing for a kid,” Hesiod confessed with a bit of sadness in his eyes and Gabriel absentmindedly rubbed his chest above where the egg was hidden as he realized that the faun wanted a family, and not just one-time things.

“Ever considered a surrogate mother?” the archangel questioned and saw Hesiod look away with a nod.

“But it’s not really the same thing as sharing your life with a mate, a kid and your relative herd. I do however have five more years, but after that I have two surrogates who are willing to carry my young. A young nymph and a human, who are aware of my nature.”

“Then I wish you luck with your search, and I’m sure that Dionysus would never allow any harm to come to your kids if you brought them up while in his service,” Gabriel stated confidently and then opened the door to the back seat, stuffing the skalde mead into his pocket dimension before picking up the crate.

“Thank you, Loki,” Hesiod smiled and closed the door as the short, unassuming man carried the box away. Who would think that Loki, God of Mischief, would look like a kind and pleasant neighbor instead of the ominous and sinister reputation he had?

Hesiod drove the car away with a last look at the god. He’d studied a lot of history of the gods, goddesses and creatures, and as far as he knew, Loki was the equivalent of a trickster; judge, jury and executioner. Loki was supposed to be somewhat malicious and bring death to the world. Hesiod decided to be extra cautious around their visitor; maybe he was just playing a game. He was after all famous for his tricks.

* * *

As Gabriel got inside he sent a glance around the large hallway. Seeing that there was a plateau around the walls where green grass grew, together with bushes, flowers and small trees. Knowing that someone had to be there to meet him he looked around and saw the green eyes of a dryad stare back at him from behind the stem of a tree. Her green skin glistened, like a leaf in sunlight, decorated with the ridges of branches that grew along her body. She had long copper colored hair and white flowers grew as a crown on the branches that were growing from her head.

“I’ll bring you to Master Dionysus,” she said and walked along the grassed pathway. Gabriel followed silently, knowing that most forest spirits preferred silence, and watched how she took small leaps when she had to cross the marble floor to get to another plateau of vegetation. Glorious ponds and green areas littered the mansion. Fish, birds and plants seemed to thrive despite being inside. On a large windowsill, a female lion lounged in the sunlight, yawning as the visitor passed but ignored him. In an adjourning corridor singing and laughing could be heard and Gabriel saw two fauns swabbing the floor and playing with the cleaning equipment as they tapped their hooves against the floor and slowly performed their duty.

The dryad showed him to a set of stairs and gestured for him to go up while she clung to the tree that grew in the middle. Gabriel listened to the purling water that ran down one side of the stairs and watched how the dryad vanished into the tree and then chirped for him as she showed up in the crown at the top of the stairs. As he walked up she hung upside down and watched him, dropping to the floor once he reached the end and quickly walked in small jumps across the tiles to the next green area, just before the wall became glass panels with a round opening, leading out to a balcony.

“Master is out there,” the young woman pointed to the balcony and then quickly ran across the marble floor back to the tree by the stairs.

Gabriel relaxed and walked out, watching how his on-and-off lover sat on a woven rattan chair beside the rail, overlooking the acres of yard that he owned and twirled a glass of wine between his fingers. Gabriel could only see his side and the back of his head, but he seemed tense, worried.

Dionysus was dressed simply in a maroon piece of textile that hung loosely around his hips and was fastened on one of his shoulders with a golden pin. His long, brown, slightly curly hair moved across his olive skin as the small gusts of wind caught it. The grape leaves that made up his crown had sprouted flowers and some had even turned into grapes, something that only happened when he had been in especially high spirits for a few weeks. The large tigress beside his feet turned to lie on her side and Gabriel placed down the box of mead, making his friend turn towards him.

“I come bearing gifts!” Gabriel grinned and threw his arms out, seeing how the pensive expression on Dionysus’ face vanished and was replaced with a grin of untainted happiness as he caught sight of the trickster.

“Loki,” the Greek placed a black stone tablet on the railing and got up to greet his friend with a warm hug, holding him hard as if making sure that he wouldn’t vanish.

“Hi there, Dion,” Gabriel whispered with an affectionate gaze as the demigod pulled away, but kept his arms around the archangel. Gabriel cupped his old lover’s face and brought their lips together, feeling how Dionysus moved an arm to wrap around his neck and deepened the kiss by sneaking his tongue inside. For a long while they just kissed, holding each other close and recalling the memories of the century they spent together. They had been an item amongst some of the pantheons, and had been the origin of the saying ‘Love is a sort of madness’. The gods knew that if one of them was seen somewhere, then the other wasn’t far away.

The demigod pulled away from him, releasing the archangel from his hold and then shook his head. Gabriel barely had time to register a fist coming towards his face before it collided and sent him sprawling to the ground. As a celestial he could’ve braced for it, but that would’ve broken Dionysus’ hand and he wasn’t able to heal himself that fast.

“Okay, what did I do to deserve that?” Gabriel grumbled with a pout and rubbed his cheek as he sat up on the marble plates.

“You mean; ‘ _what did I do that you know I did?_ ’, right?” Dionysus asked with an amused twinkle in his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.

“Whatever makes you happy, but I haven’t played any pranks lately…”

“Lo,” the Greek rolled his eyes and went back to the rattan chair. He clapped his hands together, causing another chair to appear in front of him and Gabriel teleported himself to it, careful to not place his feet on the large cat’s tail.

“There have been rumors going around, time and time again, that you’ve died. Tied down by Odin, swallowed by giants, frozen in the mountains, eaten by a dragon, but they were just rumors,” Dionysus began and looked out over the garden that most of his subjects were happily residing in for the moment. Most of them were satyrs, fauns, and nymphs, but there were also a few centaurs, large cats and merpeople. The Greek god picked up the black tablet from the railing and dragged his fingers along a fracture in it before he continued.

“When Kali sent out the open message to everyone that a secret meeting had occurred to try and stop the Judeo-Christian apocalypse I was curious, but she told everyone that the meeting had failed as Lucifer slayed every god with ease. She then recounted who had been there, and your name came up. You said that the tablet would break with your death, and I checked it. It had broken in half and I mourned. I’ve never asked Gaia for anything before, but I asked her to bring you back. I was saddened by seeing the stone broken so I wanted to glue it together, but once I placed both of the pieces towards each other they became whole, with only a minor crack to show,” Dionysus handed over the stone and Gabriel examined it, intrigued by the fact that the tablet clearly had sensed that it regained the connection he had to it.

“I tried contacting you, but the tablet didn’t work. I got my own messages. At first I thought you were just ridiculing me for worrying, but you wouldn’t be as cruel as to respond like that for so long, and I even contacted Thor, but he knew nothing. I decided that I would let ten years pass, and if you never showed during those years I would assume that you were gone. I was thoroughly smashed when you showed up at Hades’ place. I thought that I had imagined it, but Hades confirmed that you actually came by. The least you could’ve done would be to tell me that you were still alive. One message, was all I asked for.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know the tablet broke,” Gabriel sunk into the chair, feeling guilty for upsetting someone who had always been there whenever he needed it and recharged the connection he had while watching as the crack melted. “To tell you the truth… I wasn’t sure if I technically died or not. I was at two places at the same time. I remember dying, and I remember hearing myself die. I think I was dead and alive at the same time for a moment.” The archangel smiled hesitantly and handed over the tablet, seeing Dionysus stare at him.

“How’d you pull that off?” the demigod wondered and caressed the stone across where the crack once was. Gabriel turned his palms towards the sky and shrugged.

“I think that someone out there, someone extremely powerful, didn’t think that I had finished breathing, be it Gaia or someone else,” the archangel declared, looking out across the garden, thinking of how he missed his Father’s presence. Gabriel snapped his fingers, teleporting a flask of mead to his hand and handed it over. “Now, let’s drop the topic and get to my gift, and let’s pretend that I brought it to soothe all ails.”

Dionysus opened the turquoise bottle and sniffed it curiously, but then grinned as he recognized it.   
“Mead of Heidun, the best mead there is,” the Greek laughed and took a sip, humming in enjoyment at the velvet taste.

“But there is more,” Gabriel grinned and wagged a finger before he stuck his hand inside his inner pocket to pull out the bottle of skalde mead. He held it up, close to himself so that Dionysus wouldn’t reach over and take it.

Rule one of negotiation; don’t give away your leverage.

“This is skalde mead, one of the few bottles left,” the trickster winked and smirked to the bottle, but Dionysus just sighed.

“Okay, fine, what do you want?” he sounded almost tired, but his lips still smiled in amusement.

“Who said I wanted something?” Gabriel asked and gave him an innocent look.

“You didn’t know that I’m annoyed with you and you bring a box of Heidun’s mead and something as rare as skalde mead. That is not just gifts. You want something. Something for the skalde mead,” Dionysus explained and took another drink of the beverage, moaning at the taste.

“Am I really that obvious?” the archangel muttered.

“You’re about as hard to see through as a clear puddle of water on a sunny day.”

“Okay, fine. I do want your help. I need to prove to Ceres that I’ve secured her temple, which means bringing _something_ to her temple, and rather than summoning one I thought that I might be able to borrow yours,” Gabriel hesitated, “you do have a winged pet, don’t you?”

“Who told you?!” Dionysus asked in a worried hiss and leaned forward as if someone would hear them.

“Ceres,” he said lowly and made the Greek groan.

“Damn it, of course it was her…”

“Well, I’m not planning on telling anybody.”

“Good, if the other knew that I had one they would demand that I kill him, and bringing him to the temple is the only thing we’re going to do?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, hand over the bottle,” Dionysus waved with his hand and reached out to get it. Gabriel quickly handed over it and the demigod grinned. “Hah! You just got swindled! I would’ve done it for free!”

“Well, good thing it isn’t real skalde mead then!” Gabriel grinned as their relationship seemed to be back to normal.

“What?” Dionysus looked to the bottle with disappointment, but then heard the trickster laugh heartedly.

“Got you!” Gabriel smugly stuck a lollipop into his mouth and smirked, seeing how Dionysus held the bottle to his body in a protective embrace.

“So, do you want to see my pet angel?” the Greek god grinned mischievously and fumbled a bit with his clothes, finding a small device and pressed a button.

“I’d love to,” Gabriel answered back and leaned forward just as a young satyr showed up.

“Alex,” Dionysus greeted the mostly naked man with chestnut brown horse ears and tail, and who covered his groin with a simple blue, but lavish loincloth, “we’ll be going to my room, so could you bring the mead to the wine cellar?”

“Of course,” Alex, the satyr, stated with a small bow as both of the gods got up from their seat.

Gabriel entertained Dionysus with stories of what he’d done as a trickster and enjoyed the way his old friend and lover laughed heartedly at slow-dancing aliens, forgetting whatever it was that had made him tense and worried. They passed a large aquarium that took up the entire wall and Gabriel was momentarily distracted as he could see that the aquarium had to take up the entire room behind it, but that wasn’t what caught the archangel’s eye. Hesiod was cleaning the outside of the tank and a merman was cleaning the inside. The golden brown fishtail moved slowly, almost erotically as he tried to keep himself towards the glass and his fins had an even golden glow as they stretched and relaxed. His shoulder long brown hair moved in the water as if a gentle wind kept blowing and gleamed in gold as the light struck it right. He had scales in beautiful intricate patterns around his shoulders and along his arms. The two pairs of gills in his neck opened and closed as he breathed, but Gabriel could see that he had two more pairs across his well-trained chest, probably only used when he needed more air than normal.

He was uncommonly trained for a merman. Usually they only had strong tails and stomachs, while their arms, shoulders and chest received minimal attention, but this merman had made sure that his entire body was trained. Gabriel couldn’t help but to want to touch those small, gloriously golden fins that grew from his pinkies along his lower arm and stopped by his elbows.

“It goes throughout the house. Underneath the floor, within walls, in the ceilings and outside to several ponds. Allowing all to travel wherever they want, and look in at us from small windows,” Dionysus explained, thinking that it was the tank itself that drew the trickster’s eyes.

“That’s great,” Gabriel answered back without taking his eyes of the large merman who had his face knit in concentration as he tried to remove a stain that didn’t seem to want to get clean, “Hesiod I’ve met, but who’s the other?” At the mention of his name Hesiod turned and quickly bowed deeply.

“No need for formalities, Hesiod,” Dionysus smiled and glanced over his old lover, smiling as he saw attraction in his attention to the merman.

“That’s Simon.” Simon jerked his concentration away from the imaginary stain and looked up.

“I’ll introduce you,” the Greek god grinned and pushed his friend forward to the tank. Gabriel couldn’t help but to be shocked by how innocently sweet and curiously tender Simon’s features were now that he’d stopped scowling.

“Simon, this is Loki, a Nordic god,” Dionysus said to the merman and Gabriel saw how Simon quickly bowed deeply, showing that he had the same golden fins along his spine and two larger ones lying over his shoulders. The large ones across his shoulders were relaxed and tucked towards his body, but Gabriel could see that they had barbs along them and would probably be sharp and flared if he fought.

“No need for formalities, Simon,” Gabriel repeated, wanting to place his hands on the glass and lean as close to the merman as he possibly could, but it would just give Hesiod more work so he resisted his urge, “could you spin around?” Simon looked confused and questioning, but gave a slow spin.

“Wow, you look glorious,” Gabriel smiled a bit dazed as he looked to the merman through half-lidded eyes. Simon’s eyes widened and a red blush spread over his cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth several times. Two fins that had been hidden within his hair slowly rose up, together with all the other ones as he became flustered by the attention he got.

‘T-thank you,’ Simon stammered and crossed his hands over where the opening to his groin was, instinctively protecting his most sensitive part as if it would make his embarrassment decline, ‘I know you can’t hear me, but thank you.’

“Oh, I can hear you just fine,” Gabriel grinned and saw Simon’s eyes widen again before he looked away embarrassed.

‘Then you can’t have met many merpeople, because I’m nothing special,’ the merman stated from within the tank and returned his gaze to the archangel, who knew that the merpeople were more attracted to lush multi-colored patterns and lights compared to the rich golden brown Simon had.

“Au contraire, my fair. I’ve met a lot, and you are one of a kind, a beautiful kind,” Gabriel flirted shamelessly, contently seeing how both the blush and the fins got an even darker color. Simon opened his mouth a then closed it before diving away out of the sight of the gods.

“You hit on anything that moves,” Dionysus stated and withheld the laugher he wanted to release at the fact that his old lover had embarrassed someone so bad that they had run away.

“I do not!” Gabriel defended himself against the accusation as they continued their walk towards where the ‘pet angel’ was supposed to be held, “only things I like, and Simon seemed lovely.” In the tank, underneath the floor, Simon was hiding while flattening down his fins and let his body betray his interest as it played a light show in the dark. Not that Simon had an interest in males in any way, but receiving the attention of _a god_ caused his body to react regardless of gender. Humans, in his human form, he could attract, but rarely any merpeople gave him attention in his more comfortable true form and his insides were reeling from the fact that _a god_ held interest in his true form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine that Simon resembles Sam.


	24. Gods of Delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gabriel is promiscuous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-08-29  
> Words: 9 000

The God of Wine brought Gabriel to his own room. A huge room with large televisions, lavish furniture, wine barrels along one wall, swings from the high ceiling, big soft carpets, a large jacuzzi, and an enormous bed in the middle. Dionysus entered his walk-in closet and shut the door behind them, only to open a hidden entrance and begin to descend a pair of winding stairs. Gabriel closed the wall behind them and got up on the railing, sliding down and seeing Dionysus grin as he stuck out his tongue when he passed.

Gabriel looked around the large room at the end of the stairs while he waited, seeing that it was decorated with the same kind of plateaus of vegetation, but these only had grass and a few trees. The ceiling seemed to be missing and a blue sky took its place. A few, thin clouds were the only thing that obstructed the sun’s beams that lit the room. Light brown wine barrels formed a pyramid along one wall and several beds in different sizes were placed along the next. Chains hung from each bedpost and Gabriel didn’t doubt for a second that the chests, drawers and cupboards along the next wall contained toys of different kinds. He recognized the chairs as the kind Dionysus used and conjured up whenever he was interested in moving away from the bed. Gabriel knew from experience that those chairs were very comfortable, whether he was the one to be riding or be ridden. The seat was large and the back support was soft. The padding beside the seat was thick to not cause bruises to whoever was riding and the arm rests were solid. Gabriel was one of the few, as far as he knew, that had actually managed to break them.

“You keep your pet angel in a sex dungeon?” Gabriel asked with a grin as his friend came down, but felt nauseous as worry stirred in his being. He couldn’t think of any angel that would enjoy these kind of activities, not with the ‘sullied’ soul of an immortal, and imagining Dionysus to take someone against their will made Gabriel sick. Dionysus wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

“Yes, it’s safe and protected,” the Greek nodded and headed for a thick oak door at the other end of the room while Gabriel followed, unsure if he should ask if Dionysus was forcing the angel to do something. The demigod winked to him and held a finger to his mouth, hushing him quietly and pressed down the handle and opened the door a notch.

“Ye better get back in here ye insignificant life form! I am an Angel of the Lord and is not to be treated this way!” an angry voice came out from the opening, making Dionysus grin amused at the angel’s announcement and pushed open the door. Gabriel quickly took in the sight, worriedly scanning the room to see if his kin had been injured or harmed in any way, but despite his angry voice the celestial seemed rather content where he lounged in one of Dionysus’ comfortable sex chairs in the middle of the room. The intricate halo radiated with mirth and glee, showing that he enjoyed being kept exactly where he was. He was fully clothed in a pair of black suit pants and a sky-blue shirt. He had an attractive vessel and was relaxing with his eyes closed and his head leaned against the headrest. The only thing that showed that he wasn’t there of his own consent was thick metal bands that chained his wrists to the armrests, but as an angel he should be able to just yank himself free, assuming that’s what he wanted.

“Ye ought to bow down in awe of me! I remain thy superior, even when shackled!” the celestial who Gabriel knew was Seraphiel growled and opened his eyes to glare, surprise fitting across his face at seeing that Dionysus wasn’t alone when the door closed behind them.

“Ah-ah, no-no, we’ve had this conversation,” Dionysus wagged a finger and then entered the middle of the room, cautiously followed by the archangel that was searching for what it was that held Seraphiel captured, because it certainly couldn’t be the chains, but there were no sigils on the walls, ceiling or the marble floor, nothing that Gabriel could sense and not even a hint of holy fire. “You’re my pet, and my slave, and I’ll do with you as I please.”

“I wilt never be thy slave! Ye shall submit to me! Be _my_ slave!” Seraphiel declared and straightened in the chair, keeping a cautious eye on the new arrival as Gabriel looked over the room while remaining close to the door, seeing that there was food, water, books and two televisions, both of which most likely were controlled by the remote that hung in a string along the chair’s leg, ensuring that the angel would be able to watch TV if he was bored.

“No, and if you want something you beg, remember?” Dionysus corrected the celestial and Gabriel doubted that he would ever get Seraphiel to do that. Seraphiel, the first of the seraphs, was a proud angel. Proud, powerful and a devoted follower of Michael, but he never managed to get into the archangel’s inner circle of confidence. Not for lack of trying, but he was always bested by Zachariah. However, unlike Seraphiel, Zachariah never played by the rules and had five pairs of stolen wings.

“I wilt never succumb to ye! Nor to the sins of the flesh! I wilt not be defiled by thy wile deeds,” the angel’s words made the demigod chuckle amused and turn to Gabriel with a mischievous grin.

“That’s not what he was shouting an hour ago. It was more along the lines of ‘fuck yes’, ‘more’ and ‘please Master’,” Dionysus declared and Gabriel raised a surprised eyebrow to Seraphiel, seeing that his eyes turned wide and his mouth fell open in shock and horror.

“I-, I-, I never-, it is untrue! False!” the angel shouted with his face flushed and halo radiating with embarrassment.

“Terrible liars,” the demigod stated with a small shake of his head and walked around the chained angel.

“What is it that keeps him here?” Gabriel questioned as his friend made his way behind the angel and started to massage the bound angel’s shoulders. “I mean, angels are strong… Shouldn’t he just be able to yank himself free?”

“No, there’s a thin cord through the chains that contains burning holy oil, Hades helped me make them a couple of months back,” Dionysus explained and Gabriel looked to the chains with repressed horror; if demons or other demigods got a hold of those angels would be in a world of trouble. Dionysus was a kind and gentle person, but he’d inadvertently created a weapon against angels.

“You seem tense,” the pagan cooed to Seraphiel as he massaged the bound man’s shoulders. “Tell me what you want, Seraphiel. What do you want me to do?”

“Get away from me!” the angel called out in a higher pitch and sent a glance to a dresser where a big glass-bowl of wine stood.

“It’s okay, Seraphiel,” Dionysus said calmingly while caressing the celestial’s shoulders, “no angel can hear you and no angel can see you here. I trust Loki with my life, and both Loki and I are notorious horndogs.”

“I am not familiar with the implication of that word…”

“We hold a strong passion for the sins of the flesh,” the demigod explained and placed a kiss on top of the angel’s head while laying a hand on his cheek to caress the angel, “neither of us will judge you for feeling lust. Both of us still think of you as a godly creature.”

“Blasphemy,” Seraphiel hissed at the action of being described as ‘godly’, but Gabriel could see him leaning into the touch as his halo began to shine with a happy pride and eager expectation, so maybe he wasn’t being _forced_ into intercourse.

“Oh heavenly being. Tell me what you desire,” Dionysus demanded while sliding his hands down the chest before undoing the top buttons.

“Wine,” Seraphiel mumbled with closed eyes and Gabriel couldn’t help but to stare at the fact that his friend had seemingly tamed a seraph, “I covet the taste of thy wine.” Dionysus left his prisoner and picked up a round glass. He dipped it in the liquid and then brought it to the angel. Seraphiel didn’t open his eyes until the demigod was before him, then he licked his lips and enthusiastically drank the red liquid that was presented to him.

The angel licked his lips again and threw his head back, sighing pleased. The Greek left to return the glass, but didn’t have time to leave it before Seraphiel demanded, “more.” Gabriel could see the grace in the angel begin to flow like a stream; he’d never seen anything like it, and guessed that it might be the wine that kept Seraphiel from calling out to the others to save him, well, if he wanted to be saved.

“What’s in that wine?” Gabriel asked intrigued, curious of what could cause the first of the seraphs to turn so outlandish, for an angel.

“It’s just wine, but it’s made of holy water, grapes and rose petals. Angels like holy water with rose petals, and I like wine,” the pagan explained with a shrug and fed the celestial more of the red fluid. A word of Enochian left the angel’s lips and Gabriel raised his eyebrow as he knew that he word was a call of submission.

“Seraphiel,” Dionysus content voice hummed, “do you want to play a second time?”

“Intensely,” the celestial grinned, but then turned to Gabriel with a glare, “no one wilt speak of this.” The archangel just shook his head, too shocked to speak.

“Good, now Seraphiel, who’s been a bad boy?”

“Ye.”

“No, you called me _insignificant_ , and you will be punished accordingly. I am your Master.” The demigod caressed the skin over the chest, but the angel just grinned and turned his face up to watch the pagan.

“Ye can do nothing to scare me. I hath faced the wrath of Naomi. A being such as ye can do _nothing_ ,” Seraphiel informed almost smugly.

“You will see that the torture I’m thinking of will be nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced,” Dionysus smirked confidently. “I don’t even think that your naïve mind can imagine the possibilities.”

“Ye be silent, and pleasure me,” Seraphiel demanded, unmoved by the threat and turned to Gabriel, “ _both_ of ye.” The archangel was certain that his eyes were going to fall out of his head. He swore a bit to himself as his most secretive dreams were presented to him; fooling around with another angel, but he was afraid that Seraphiel was going to sense his grace like Castiel had done if he approached.

“I’m afraid of angels,” the words fell out of his mouth without his mind working, but it was a good excuse to not approach. In his mind he thanked Ceres for providing him with that line.

“He’s almost completely harmless right now, as he’s just had some wine, but you can watch if you want,” Dionysus grinned and walked around his prisoner. He straddled the celestial’s lap and kissed him. Gabriel felt jealousy burn as Dionysus, the Greek God of Grapes, Wine, Ritual madness and Ecstasy, tore open the angel’s shirt fully and caressed the chest, making Seraphiel hum and his halo’s glow intensify with lust.

Gabriel had seen his old lover with many creatures, even taken part in orgies himself, but this was the first time he felt jealousy burning through his veins. Dionysus was _his_ territory, and Seraphiel was not allowed to have him. The archangel shook his head as he tried to clear his mind while he watched how another angel eagerly intruded on his domain, smirking and staring at Gabriel challengingly as Dionysus left kisses along his jaw.

The archangel reminded himself that Dionysus was a free spirit and could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. He also had to remind himself that Seraphiel didn’t know that he was looking at a superior angel, challenging Gabriel over Dionysus, who technically wasn’t his mate, but the closest damn thing to it that Gabriel had ever had.

As the Greek reached the angel’s neck he sucked and brushed against him and Seraphiel’s content moan sent ripples through Gabriel’s body; he could hear the angel in more ways than through his ears and it was making his mouth salivate and his legs weak.

His brain repeated that Seraphiel wanted Gabriel to touch him, allowing him to have his way with the seraph. Gabriel was the dominant angel. He’d gotten consent and now he got to decide if he wanted Seraphiel. His grace screamed that the seraph had consented and Gabriel could have them both if he wanted it. His brain was mush as he held himself back. He wanted to kiss, touch, claim. Both of them. Make them belong to him. Him, and him only.

Two pairs of giant wings stretched out as they unfolded in a different dimension and feathers quivered in time with the pagan’s ministrations. Gabriel suddenly realized that he was almost watching an angel-porno, and damn, it got him turned on. He knew that he should look away to not fall into the temptation of touching the other angel without him knowing that ‘Loki’ also was of the same species, but he couldn’t.

Dionysus got off the prisoner’s lap before Gabriel had lost his control and made the seraph growl in frustration with the wings in the other dimension making a small beat before moving to a half-folded state. The Greek god smirked and walked up to Gabriel to take a look at the panting and horny celestial being.

“I command thee, Creature of Satisfaction. I require more of thy inappropriate behavior; _worship me_ ,” Seraphiel demanded while the demigod just smiled and shook his head.

“Loki,” the pagan began, returning his attention to his ex-lover and pushed on Gabriel’s chest. The archangel took a step back, but as Dionysus had his foot hooked around his ankle he fell. He landed unceremoniously in a comfortable sex chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Poor, poor, you; You’re all frustrated and tense. Let me take care of you.” Dionysus’ lips touched his and a tongue was suddenly in his mouth. Gabriel pulled him in closer, feeling him straddle his lap, and a deep growl rumbled in the archangel’s chest as he wanted to show Seraphiel who was the dominant one and eagerly returned Dionysus’ kiss, insistent on controlling it, and his old lover let him.

Seraphiel complained and threw orders to ‘cease thy activity’ as they kissed. Gabriel had always enjoyed the Greek god’s company, but the angelic dominance display, combined with teasing the drunk and horny celestial was a new experience. His hands pushed the simple dress up and over the demigod’s head, threw it to the floor and grinned as they resumed their kiss. Gabriel was determined to show Seraphiel what he wasn’t allowed to have until Gabriel had gotten his fill first.

“Lo, too much clothing,” Dionysus complained and Gabriel snapped his fingers, using pagan powers to remove all of it.

“Better?” the archangel asked and threw a glance at the panting angel. His frustration had caused his wings to frizzle in ways that Gabriel had never seen. “Enjoying the show?” he asked the prisoner with a challenging grin.

“No, thou art obstructing my consummation!” Seraphiel growled and glared daggers.

“Aw, ain’t that just _so_ sad?” Gabriel teased and caressed the demigod’s chest before pulling him to his lips. Their kiss grew more and more fierce. It wasn’t long before the angel started complaining again and the moment he did Gabriel materialized a slick liquid over his fingers before pushing two of them inside Dionysus and hitting a bundle of nerves.

“You remember what I like, Lo-ve,” the Greek god chuckled into the kiss and let the trickster take care of his wanton body, moaning loudly with each brush to his prostate. Gabriel grinned as he drew lustful sounds from his old friend and sporadic lover. He quickly coated himself once the demigod’s breathing had quickened, showing his level of neediness.

“Lo,” the demigod moaned as he lowered himself, feeling his own erection pulse with every heartbeat.

“Dion,” Gabriel hummed pleased as heat enveloped him completely, knowing that the pagan now wasn’t going to abandon him to move over to Seraphiel. Dionysus’ arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed deeply while joined. The two of them threw a glance to the upset celestial, chuckling at the way he was staring at them with his mouth slightly ajar from panting and pulling a little in the restraints of one of his arms.

The God of Ecstasy placed his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders and began to ride, moaning loudly to torture his prisoner. It was slow at first and Gabriel rejoiced in each moment by stroking his lover’s body and groin, but as Dionysus’ speed increased the Greek god threw his head back, calling out the Nordic god’s name. Gabriel panted harshly as he felt himself grow closer. His hands were helping his friend ride him harder, and he groaned loudly as he came, but the pagan kept riding him, causing waves of pleasure to cascade through him.

“Dion! Fuck!” Gabriel called out, but kept coming into the demigod’s body, feeling as if he emptied himself more than what was possible. It was one of the things that made the archangel come back to Dionysus to get laid. The demigod’s magic caused outdrawn climaxes. Gabriel rode the high while pumping his lover, feeling Dionysus come over his chest in spurts.

“Fuck yes!” the Greek god called out as the high came over him before moaning contently as it slowly wore off. Gabriel couldn’t help but to smile contently while he watched the demigod beam back at him, lost in their own world of satisfaction.

“ _My_. Turn!” Seraphiel asserted strongly and made the two others give him a look; the celestial being clearly hadn’t understood that this was part of his torture.

“No,” Gabriel declared with a steady gaze and caressed Dionysus’ hips possessively, “you can’t have him. Not until _I’m_ done.”

“Right,” Dionysus chuckled in agreement, thinking that it was solely about tormenting his prisoner, and got off the archangel’s lap with a last caress over his chest, drawing a finger through the fluid and sucked it off as he went back. Gabriel watched as his friend walked behind Seraphiel and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Now what was it you wanted?”

“I require ye to pleasure me,” Seraphiel demanded shamelessly, but the Greek god only began stroking the skin around his shoulders and nibbling on his neck. “I insist that thou strive lower.”

“Stop talking so snobbish. I know you can,” Dionysus let a hand travel down to the bulge in the black pants and teasingly caressed it with a finger. The leader of the seraphs seemed content even though his wings shivered from a hungry urge.

“How drunk is he?” Gabriel asked curiously as he remained in the comfortable chair and felt how a bit of the territorial instinct ebbed away.

“He’s had five glasses of wine today,” Dionysus answered and squeezed the vessel’s thigh, making the angel release a frustrated whimper. “Two this morning, and then one a few hours ago. The holy rose water makes him unable to contact other angels. Haniel said that all angels are connected somewhat, but once she had the rose water all she could do was sing to herself. Zadkiel couldn’t hear her singing and he could only hear her moans when they were in the same room.”

“How many angels have you had?” Gabriel gaped surprised and saw a devious grin on his friend’s lips.

“Haniel, Zadkiel, Ridwan, Phanuel, and now Seraphiel,” the God of Madness chuckled at the archangel’s shocked expression. “Haniel was the first angel that Ceres and I caught that I didn’t lose. I only had a prisoner a few hours before someone showed up to save them and I tried things before leaving. Like seeing how much alcohol it would take to get them drunk and tried out different illegal substances, but most were useless. Anything that would get them to relax from their homicidal tension. I fed them holy water and holy oil. Most of them fought against me, so it was hard. The angel I caught before Haniel had passed out from drinking holy rose water. An accidental product, to tell the truth. Haniel was curious of me and once she realized that I wasn’t going to hurt her she spoke with me.”

“Haniel, the Angel of Joy,” Gabriel grinned amused; of course, Haniel and Dionysus had gotten along fine.

“You know of her?”

“Yea, once the DVD ‘Angels gone wild’ came out I looked up everything I could,” the trickster stated lazily, experienced in lying, “please, continue the story.”

“Haniel drank the rose water and told me she could hear song, and then she realized that it was her own voice. I have no idea how that works, but she liked the rose water a lot, saying it made her happy. Well, long story short; we became friendly, and I got laid. It was a wonderful experience to teach sex to an angel. Oh, everything I did gave her a new sensation! Once the rose water wore off she called out to Zadkiel, who showed up after a few days. He felt betrayed at first when we caught him in a ring of holy fire. Haniel gave him the rose water and he enjoyed it. We ended up here, discussing everything that was going on and had one wicked orgy. They got stamina, I’ll give you that. Zadkiel vanished for a few days and then showed up high on rose water together with Phanuel. Seraphiel kind of, accidently, saw us out once and followed us back. He thought that I had placed some kind of spell on them. He spoke with Haniel, trying to get her away, but when he ended up in a ring of fire he threatened to expose us, so we drugged him and tied him to a chair in the joy room upstairs,” Dionysus began to massage the angel’s chest and crotch, making Seraphiel moan contently while he listened in on their conversation.

“Okay, so where are they?”

“Heaven,” Dionysus grumbled and gave his last angel a gentle bite in the neck. “They had to return to not arouse suspicion when they were called back, but Seraphiel here doesn’t understand the importance of not telling the whole truth. The others worried that they would be killed for -in their words- _‘acting like cupids’_. I just hope that all the heaven-business can calm down so they can return to me. Having a harem of angels that haven’t gotten laid in forever is more fun than I could ever imagine. With some rose water they certainly know how to party.”

“Wow, I know you’re a God of Madness, but you’re setting records I never thought existed!” Gabriel laughed amused and saw how the Greek god stopped pleasing the angel as he was at the edge of finishing.

“Me too, but I _do_ have a reputation to uphold,” Dionysus agreed smiling and gave the celestial being a look, waiting for him to complain.

“More!” Seraphiel demanded breathlessly, but the demigod only produced another chair and sat down to wait.

“The wine. Is it dangerous in any way? Do they get hangovers? Do they remember everything or forget?”

“Not dangerous, and no real hangover. They’re just a bit groggy. A bit of both. Haniel said that her memories blended together and she couldn’t really tell in what order everything happened, but she could guess. She was fuzzy, but happy. So is Seraphiel. He’s stubborn and doesn’t want to admit that he likes this except after a really intense sex-round. We left him alone when he protested to being touched in the joy room, but he still saw that the other angels were having fun with me and each other. After a few weeks of yelling at them he confessed that he wanted us to try to touch him, and I made him come up with a safe-word that would make me and all of them stop. What’s your safe word, Seraphiel?”

“Solpeth, and the memories are easy to rearrange in the correct order,” the angel murmured and shifted uncomfortably, oblivious to the fact that Gabriel was aware that it meant ‘pay attention’ in Enochian. The archangel leaned on his hand and almost closed his eyes so that he would be able to look at the unsteady wings without Seraphiel noticing. “I ask you to silence your speech and end my neglect.”

“Less snobbish,” the Greek god commanded.

“Angels have wings,” Gabriel grinned and stared at the celestial as he thought of a way to manifest them without burning Dionysus’ eyes out, “would you allow us to touch them?”

“If you laid your eyes on them you’d burn to ash,” Seraphiel informed, looking as if he felt sorry for it.

“What if we have a spell that makes them harmless?” the archangel suggested.

“Never!” Seraphiel snarled and made the trickster sigh bored as he looked away. For a while they just left the angel to stew in his own desire. Dionysus got up to tease him once more, bringing Seraphiel to the edge, and then ended up sitting in Gabriel’s lap, kissing his fellow pagan god and they poured all of their feelings of longing into it.

Dionysus hand trailed down his chest, clean even though it shouldn’t be, and then found his hardening groin, stroking it teasingly gentle. Gabriel was quickly ready again, feeling how heat poured through his body and he wanted to quench his thirst for the Greek god. He held his lover wrapped in his arms, claiming his mouth with his tongue and his flesh with his hands, groaning as his hunger only grew. Dionysus shifted to ease Gabriel’s swollen member inside when the archangel stopped him.

“No, it’s your turn to be ridden,” the trickster grinned playfully and Dionysus quickly got off his lap to let him up. They switched positions and Dionysus flicked open a drawer with his powers, using telekinesis to make a bottle end up in his hand.

“You know I can just snap?” Gabriel asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re not worshipped as much anymore. We’re both weaker, and conjuring draws more power,” the Greek murmured and squirted out a handful of liquid. Gabriel pushed the bottle to the floor as he took his lover’s hand and only coated Dionysus in the slick fluid, making the Greek shake his head.

“I wanna feel you, _now_ ,” the archangel stated and positioned himself better, pulling his cheeks apart and feeling how his ring muscle was touched by the head.

“Your lack of patience is what makes it so fun to tie you down,” Dionysus smirked and strengthened his pounding limb with his hand while using the other to find the opening. Acting on experience, Gabriel lowered himself slightly and enabled his lover to easier guide himself to breach his entrance.

“So tight, always so damn tight, Lo,” Dionysus moaned as he pushed the tip inside and Gabriel answered with a gasp and lowered himself further. The archangel relocated his hands to the armrests, enjoying how full he felt and mentally confirmed that he was much too engrained in his own lust to endure the treatment of slowly being prepared. With the egg in his chest and Dionysus inside him he felt a fullness he’d never before experienced. He moaned longingly as they waited for him to get used to Dionysus size and Gabriel threw his head back.

Seraphiel had stopped turning out orders as he watched the way Dionysus’ body arched when the Nordic god rode him and made him cry out in pleasure. He had no words left, nothing he knew that he could do to help him get through his own desire. He craved the fulfilment and all he was allowed to do was feel the hunger increase as he watched, listened and smelled. The rushing of blood, fast heartbeats, movement of muscle, gasps of air, the tremble of the vocal cords as they moaned, the obscenely interesting sound of Dionysus’ organ moving in and out of Loki. The hormones and scents that escaped their bodies and drifted through the air just made the entire experience more carnal and physical. Loki smelled less human than Dionysus, more of coniferous forests and sugar canes, but they were both oozing of dopamine, testosterone, oxytocin, and remaining serotonin from their previous orgasm. Seraphiel wanted all of those chemicals, wanted them to give him that intense spike of pleasure through his vessel.

The wine made his grace spin through him and he wanted nothing more than to burst out of the human body that contained him and enter into a higher dimension. He wanted to plunge his own grace together with another, mix it, intertwine and fuse together. He wanted to listen to another angel’s song and not only hear his own through his grace. The thought of merging together with another angel, becoming one inseparable being for a moment and listening to the chorus they would create was making his grace quiver with want. He’d seen Haniel and Phanuel do it; it was beautiful, and he wanted it too, wanted it so badly. Just to be touched, even for a moment. He wanted it so badly that he was even considering letting Loki try his ridiculous spell, but it wouldn’t work. If they could touch his wings it would almost be like a touch to his grace, but it would hurt them as they were impure beings and he couldn’t risk it; he loved his time as a prisoner too much for it to end because of stupidity. But how he wanted it.

Seraphiel wasn’t even aware of the whines that came from his own throat as the Nordic god arched his back, crying out at the pleasure he was feeling.

“Come, Dion!” Gabriel cried out and clutched his hands hard into the armrest, helping him ride his lover harder and faster, “fill me up! Wanna fuck you!”

“Loki,” Dionysus groaned, gripping into the archangel’s wrists and let Gabriel ride him into oblivion. He knew exactly what his Northern god wanted as it was something they’d done many times before and he certainly didn’t mind.

“Come, Dion,” the trickster chanted through his harsh breaths, using his pagan power to plug his own veins, making him unable to come until those were removed. All muscles tensed as he should’ve reached the end, but was unable to. The slight pain of being denied the orgasm was easily ignored as he knew how powerful it would become later. Dionysus cried out as he was ridden and Gabriel could feel him come inside him, but he refused to slow down. It wasn’t until Dionysus called out his name in frustration and grasped hard into his hips that Gabriel froze in his movements, making the Greek god groan in satisfaction.

“If you wanna take me you better do it now,” Dionysus stated and made his lover get off so that he could turn his back to the archangel and support himself against the chair. Gabriel scrambled to get the bottle with lubrication and poured a generous amount on his hand before coating himself. He discarded the bottle and used the remaining fluid on his fingers to quickly slick into Dionysus again. By sliding two fingers inside Gabriel could feel that his lover relaxed himself and was ready since before.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting too old for this, Ánoixi vounoú psychí (mountain spring spirit),” Dionysus taunted in a breathy voice and used the name Gabriel held before Loki, grinning over his shoulder as the Nordic god got up on the chair behind him.

“You’re going to regret that, _kiddo_ ,” Gabriel grinned as he pressed inside, knowing his old lover’s body well enough to play on every nerve, and despite his own hunger he was fully in control. He slowly pushed in as deep as he could and leisurely pulled out, making sure that Dionysus wasn’t going to tense up. As he got his confirmation he angled himself and then took his fellow pagan in earnest.

Dionysus cried out and gasped as Loki struck his prostate dead on with every pound into his trembling body. Ecstasy coursed through him and he lost track of time. All that existed was the pleasure surges and the heat of Loki’s hands on his skin, almost putting him on fire. He’d gone from soft to hard with the treatment of his body and he was moaning and shouting praises in his native language, wanting Loki to keep going, but by the feral growls and gentle bites to his neck and shoulder he knew that his lover was becoming wild. Dionysus moved a hand to his dripping erection and started to stroke himself fast. He bit into the neck support of the chair and groaned as he came again, but he was quickly followed by hips jerking into him as Loki too reached an orgasm, collapsing across his back.

They clung to each other through their afterglow. Gabriel draped over Dionysus’ back and Dionysus supporting himself with an arm over the back of the chair.

“I missed you, asshole,” Dionysus hummed quietly and felt Gabriel rock with quiet laugher.

“I missed your asshole, too,” the trickster answered back and received an amused chuckle. Gabriel pulled out of his friend and slid down beside him, pushing a leg underneath him and pulled him into his lap as he leaned against the back support, cradling his lover in his arms.

“Please,” Seraphiel exhaled where he sat trembling from need after watching the two pagans climax together and made them both look to him. The seraph gasped as a wave of desire curled within him, pushing away the surprising shockwave of pleasure that had rocked his body when Masters came together. The angel smiled subtly, trying to not show that he was enjoying himself despite his deficit of attention, “please, _Masters_. I need you.”

“That’s much better, Ser,” the Greek cooed back and placed an arm around Gabriel’s neck to give him a kiss before leaving, “but I can tell that you haven’t learnt your lesson.” Dionysus nonetheless rewarded Seraphiel with opening his pants and orally bringing him to the edge of collapse before releasing him and letting him calm down. He then returned to the warmth of Gabriel’s lap and cuddled with him in front of the angel that just kept pleading dishonestly.

The prisoner surprised Gabriel after a small while by announcing the Greek god as his true Master and owner, something that celestials were forced to do towards Michael, but Dionysus still wouldn’t help him reach an orgasm as he was too busy sharing fond kisses with Gabriel.

“Loki,” the angel suddenly turned to the archangel with a begging gaze, making both of the pagans give him a surprised look, “Loki… Do you wish to lay a hand on my wings?”

“No,” Gabriel stated horrified, “I won’t touch them!”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t want it earlier! You’re just horny,” he explained and bit his lip; he really wanted to, but it was wrong. Dionysus saw his look and raised an eyebrow at the fact that his old lover seemed to have an internal struggle and refused the offer.

“Okay, Seraphiel, I think that your torture is up,” the Greek god walked over to the chained celestial, but the angel only shook his head.

“ _No!_ I truly do desire for my wings to be handled. I have for centuries, millennia even. I want you to attempt the spell on me, but you cannot be inside the room if it fails. I do not wish to see you destroyed,” Seraphiel spoke softly as Dionysus leaned down to look into his eyes.

“I will satisfy you now, _in any way you want_ , take a moment to think about that, _in any way you want,_ if you wish, or do you want to try the spell?” the demigod asked.

“The spell, please, _Masters_ , before I decide that it’s a foolish idea,” the angel whispered, face flushed in embarrassment as he looked away.

“Lo, I think he really wants it,” Dionysus declared and Gabriel immediately materialized a marker.

Gabriel asked his friend to remove the backrest of the chair and got access to the angel’s back. He bent reality as he pulled off the angel’s light blue shirt and drew a square over the entire back, seeing the two pairs of wings attach within it and drew the spell in Old Norse, Akkadian and Enochian within it, making them work together to tie the wings into their dimension without hurting Seraphiel. Gabriel bit his lip, going over the information and knowledge he had and debated with himself. The spell would be worn away by time and Seraphiel wouldn’t be able to hide his wings if he wanted, so he needed to add another spell to it, but it would destabilize the other and cause the outcome to grow less certain. Seraphiel’s grace was simply too strong despite having fallen.

“Is it done?” Dionysus asked as he studied the way Gabriel’s face was knitted into concentration. The archangel didn’t answer and simply leaned forward to use the outer part of the square to write a blessing in Sanskrit, asking to tame the power of the heavens as long as those powers wished to be so. It would allow Seraphiel to break the spell and hide his wings whenever he wanted.

“It will deteriorate little by little,” Gabriel stated and frowned as he took a step back, wondering how he was supposed to activate it without burning Dionysus to crisp. If he told the Greek that it was dangerous for him to be inside the room he would demand that ‘Loki’ was outside it since there was no reason whatsoever why ‘Loki’ wouldn’t be injured by holy light, besides, Seraphiel demanded that they both had to be outside. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dionysus studied what he’d done and once Gabriel headed towards the door he conjured up a Polaroid picture and smirked as he caught the archangel’s raised eyebrow.

“For _research_ purposes,” the Greek god claimed as he waved the picture and passed the chuckling Nordic god, who knew exactly what Dionysus meant by ‘research’.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, causing a walkie-talkie to appear in the middle of the room with the corresponding one in his other hand. He closed the door, hearing it seal and spoke into the device in Old Norse, activating the inner circle of the magic charm.

Seraphiel could feel the tingle of pagan magic on his back and instinctively reached for his grace to purge it from his being, but he quickly stopped himself, remembering what the enchantment was supposed to do. He grew uncomfortable as two shades of pagan magic tied itself into a rectangle along his back and then spread outwards. He gasped as he felt the bright burn of an incantation in Enochian. Much to his surprise the pure angelic power did nothing to the murky pagan. The heavenly magic gently weaved around the pagan, protecting it and working together with it. He didn’t need the magic explained to him. He could sense how it worked by itself.

The pagan was to manifest his wings and control his grace, but without the Enochian magic protecting it his grace, or any angel’s grace, would burn it away. The edges of the square began to light up and Seraphiel felt the Sanskritian blessing destabilizing the specially designed pagan dimension his wings were going to reach through. The spell shook and almost broke apart, but then became stable.

His mouth dropped open at the extraordinary feat that Loki had performed as his wings materialized in the room and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was out of his mind with an abundance of lust he would’ve questioned how it was possible for the pagan to have that kind of knowledge.

Gabriel carefully opened the door a notch, seeing no light and heard nothing wrong. He looked inside and saw two pairs of steel-grey wings in their dimension. The stems of the feathers were blue and the plume was mostly grey, but had a many dark blue barbs, giving the wings a beautiful shimmer of zaffre blue.

“It worked,” he grinned and walked inside, followed by a curious Dionysus.

“I beg of you, soothe the fire! I mean… Please, just fuck me. Touch me. Do anything,” Seraphiel pleaded and displayed his wings as well as he could, stretching them and tensed the feathers in a swaying pattern, as if trying to hypnotize the pagans as waves of blue cascaded over his wings.

“Four? Angels have _four_ wings?” Dionysus asked with an awestruck expression and walked closer to them, seeing how the innermost pair forded in towards him, shimmering in an array of blue colors as grace passed through every feather.

“I am the first of the seraphs. My kind was named after me, and we have four wings,” the celestial explained and whimpered as Dionysus ran his fingers along the inside, seeing that the stems of the feathers seemed to shimmer with an almost white-bluish light. The angel let out a shaky sigh, not wanting to interrupt the demigod when he was exploring his wings.

“You get the front pair, I’ll get the back,” Gabriel grinned as he carefully neared and walked around in a large circle, uncertain if he should approach, but the wish to touch a willing angel was too difficult to resist. He traced his hands over Seraphiel’s neck and down, just above the feathery appendages. With an excited gulp he let his hands move to the attachments and over the feathers, barely touching them, knowing it would tingle horrendously.

“Loki, please, take a hold of them,” Seraphiel gasped and Gabriel clenched his hands around the strong muscles, feeling the grace that streamed through every feather. The celestial cried out as he massaged them, knowing fully well how to make the wings respond to his touch. Dionysus stumbled over with a laugh as the inner pair twitched and made a beat. Gabriel gently guided his pair closer together and Seraphiel happily followed his silent order to fold them. He softly stroke the feathers, feeling the rushing grace underneath his fingers, and he thought that he’d never been that turned on.

“Dion!” Gabriel called out as the demigod pulled down the celestial’s pants. “How about you elongate the legs on the chair and remove part of the seat so that I can have access.” Without a word the Greek god grinned and clapped his hands together and Gabriel happily watched the changes happen.

“I’m going to fuck you and ruffle your feathers. Ruin your neat wings,” the archangel threatened and let his tongue travel around the shell of the angel’s ear as his hands stroke the appendages, bending the feathers as if another wing was passing through them.

“At last,” the prisoner groaned, both as an answer to Gabriel and to Dionysus that got up on the chair while caressing and studying the wings.

Gabriel materialized the lubricant and coated the angel’s entrance; he didn’t know how much sexual intercourse Seraphiel had had during his stay with Dionysus so he was going to be careful. He inserted a slick finger and moved around, feeling how his own cock was ready, hard and leaking. He inserted another and begun thrusting into the body while watching how Dionysus positioned himself to ride within a cocoon of feathers. The Greek god gave Seraphiel a deep kiss, both moaning contently at the action and Gabriel drew his free hand through the feathers, distorting them and knew that it caused the seraph pleasure. With a grin Gabriel plunged three fingers into the prostate as he found one of the oil glands and massaged it. The angel broke the kiss with a cry of pleasure, arching his back and accidentally let out a cry through the ether, making Dionysus cover his ears from the sound of the angel’s true voice.

A tremor went through Seraphiel’s wings causing him to make a small beat and Gabriel smirked amused as he listened in to other angels’ chatter, monitoring if they had heard the sound, but as no one changed subject or cared about it, it proved what Dionysus’ harem had said; you can only hear it when you’re in the same room.

“Yell a bit louder, Seraphiel, I don’t think the people in Maine heard you,” Dionysus snickered as he removed his hands from his ears.

“Fuck! Loki! Just like that! The smooth patch of skin is sensitive. My oil glands are underneath,” the celestial informed with a breathy groan.

“Good to know,” Gabriel purred, meeting Dionysus’ grinning face from within the cocoon of feathers that Seraphiel had wrapped him in. They didn’t need to speak as they began to move as one being, attuned to each other at the task of pleasing a third. Dionysus dove in for a kiss and he slowly began to ride, massaging and searching for that spot that would make Seraphiel shriek. Gabriel stretched his fellow celestial with three fingers, careful despite knowing that the angel could get stabbed without as much as a twitch. His other hand massaged an oil gland gentler than before, coaxing out the fluid and used it to preen the feathers near it, pulling in them and bending them, knowing it distorted the grace and caused a feeling of pleasure.

Seeing Dionysus begin to trail kisses and nips along the exposed neck made Gabriel realize that he could put his mouth to better use and quickly latched into the skin, pushing his body against the wings.

“Loki,” Seraphiel moaned as Gabriel’s hand travelled along the wing and switched to the next oil gland. He hit the prostate as a reward and made the celestial cry out, but as Dionysus had found one of the oil glands on one of the inner pair of wings Gabriel couldn’t take all the credit.

The archangel kept hitting the prostate, rewarding Seraphiel for the use of his name every time he yelled it. He was starving for more as he recoated his own pulsating member. He hadn’t been paying much attention to his fellow pagan for a long while, but as he looked over the angel’s shoulder he could see him riding with a delighted expression and hands latched into the feathery appendages, massaging them near two oil glands.

Gabriel carefully entered the angel, wrapping his arms around the pair of folded wings while the pair wrapped around the Greek tensed rhythmically with the way Dionysus moved. He listened in on Dionysus, knowing his sounds and breathing pattern. He also knew that Dionysus often chose to come as his lovers did. Gabriel kept a slow pace, forcing himself to not just plunge deep into the angel and pull at his wings. The archangel dug his fingers into the feathers, caressed them, tugged in them, and massaged the muscles and glands, just the way he wished someone would treat his wings. As Dionysus got louder and began to ride faster Gabriel pushed his body closer to the wings and let his desire take over, knowing it would ruffle the feathers, but he wouldn’t mind helping to preen them afterwards.

Seraphiel wasn’t able to form any words, only simple letters and gasps. He prayed, sung and screamed into the ether, making sure that his true voice wasn’t loud enough to cause harm to the pagans. He hallowed the feelings and pleasure as divine, chanting until the air itself resonated with harmonic song, unaware that the archangel could hear all of him while Dionysus only heard the way the air vibrated in a pleasant chorus, as if a thousand harps were playing the same song.

Gabriel hit the prostate hard with every aggressive thrust, not caring about exploring where the music came from, and felt his orgasm close in, but by the sounds of the other celestial, he was close too. Seraphiel cried out even louder as he came, causing a screeching sound to emanate around them. The wings that had been folded in Gabriel’s embrace flew open, stretching out completely, striking the walls and making the long flight feathers bend as they shook through the waves of euphoria. The archangel kept hammering into his fellow angel, coming into the tightness as he heard the angel’s cries in his head. His body shook with pleasure as he felt his climax and cried out as he grabbed a hold of the shoulders of the wings. With the end of the orgasm the song and harps slowly died away and silence took its place.

As the outer pair of wings folded back to Seraphiel Gabriel happily buried his face in them and wrapped his arm around them, moaning contently as he pulled out. Sensing how wonderful the other angel smelled, Gabriel kept his face in the feathers; happy to be close to another angel again.  
“Gods,” the seraph moaned to the ceiling as he panted, “you truly are Gods of the Temptations of the Flesh.”

“Loki,” Dionysus called for the archangel’s attention as he wrapped his arms around the panting celestial’s neck and made Gabriel look up. “Now this is what happens when you fuck an angel silly.” The Greek god began to nibble the prisoner’s ear, knowing that the angel hadn’t understood the meaning of the sentence. “Seraphiel, tell me what you liked this time.”

“Everything in its entirety. I like sex, _I love it_ ,” the angel confessed in a low, rough voice, “I will be waiting for it to occur again, and once again after that, and again after that.” Seraphiel took a deep breath, moaning as Dionysus kept caressing his chest and kissing his neck through his afterglow. “This is true rapture. I need you to be my Master, my love, my deity, my oblivion. Hold me chained to this sinful paradise. I don’t want to be free if it means away from you. I’ll throw myself at your feet and worship you. Loki, my God of Hedonism, and Dionysus, my God of Euphoria. I have seen the light and you are my secret truth. My gods.” The celestial turned his head and tried to look back at the pagan behind him. “Loki, kiss me,” Seraphiel moaned quietly and Gabriel grabbed his head before invading his willing mouth passionately. As neither of them needed to break for air Gabriel explored the angel’s mouth, tasting the grace that still flowed through the celestial’s body and sighed as he had to break it.

“I don’t bite,” Seraphiel grinned an intoxicated smile, “at least not my Gods of Pleasure.”

“Seraphiel,” Gabriel said, stroking the wings and looked the blaspheming angel in his eyes, “if you want this again, tell me why you fight in the beginning.”

“Pride. Vanity. Foolishness. Resisting change, good change. I need the change, to become good,” the celestial groaned as the pagans kept touching him while he basked in his serene bliss, “I’m an Angel of the Lord. I am pure. I am not supposed to succumb to the urges of the flesh. This is sin, depravity, a transgression, and extremely wicked. I should never sully myself with the fantastic company of inferiors, but Daniel tells me that I have nothing to prove. There are no angels here to think any less of me for what we are doing, for what he and I am enjoying. We love this.”

“So you’re telling me,” Gabriel began, using an old argument he’d had used on lots of angels, but they had always brushed it off, “that the god that created you, gave you these wings.” The archangel caressed the feathery appendages, making sure to gently pass an oil gland and heard the angel sigh. “That when touched gives you pleasure, and then told you to never give in to the wish of having them touched?”

“I-, yes… No, wait. I don’t know, but it just feels so good,” Seraphiel mumbled in a moan as the archangel nibbled his neck.

“Your Father created you with the ability to sense pleasure and ecstasy. Do you really think that He would be so malicious to despise you for experiencing everything He made possible for you to experience? He loved His creations, didn’t He? So He gave you this ability to feel pleasure, to show you how much He loved you.” Gabriel could almost see the argument sinking in, being turned over and examined before a conclusion was reached inside the seraph’s pleasure muddled mind.

“My Father wants me to experience this bliss,” Seraphiel whispered quietly, almost in awe, as if it was the first time he’d ever considered that their Father wanted nothing else but for them to be happy, “He wanted all of us to experience it. I won’t leave this place, never will, even if unshackled.”

“Is that so?” Dionysus asked as he leaned back, still with the angel inside him. The shackles around the angel’s arms were released and Seraphiel immediately wrapped his freed limbs around the Greek.

“Dionysus, can I be your slave until the very death of time? I want to be your harlot, courtesan, whore, whatever you call it. Mark me as yours. I want you to touch my wings,” Seraphiel stared deeply into the brown eyes of the demigod of madness, “can I be your angel? Your pet?”

“It’s great that you finally dropped the snob-speech again,” Dionysus grinned and gave him a kiss, “and yes. Let’s relocate to the bedroom and I’ll show you something new.”

“I’d love to. I want both of you to fuck me again.”

“Oh, we will, we will,” Gabriel grinned and ran his hands along the angel’s back, enjoying the feeling of grace so close to him.


	25. Wings of an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gabriel is promiscuous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-08-31  
> Words: 2 100

Gabriel watched his fellow half-dressed celestial as they walked through the mansion, passing a few of Dionysus’ followers in the corridors, all of whom bowed deeply to the winged creature they had never seen before. Seraphiel paid them no attention as his eyes remained focused on the back of the Greek. They were led into a large room with a strange furnishing. The floor was partly covered with carpet, partly made of wood, and partly of marble. There was a pond, an area with grass and one with the soil of a forested area. One of the walls was made solely of glass and there was a thick stem of a tree growing in a corner while the lush crown spread out over half the ceiling of the room and out through the glass. The crown covered the balcony, shading half of it. The thick branches had swings and ropes in them and Gabriel guessed that the nymphs who managed to attract Dionysus appreciated the tree. Large pillows in multiple colors in the other corner beside the windows were stacked in a messy pile.

“Welcome to my joy room,” the Greek pagan grinned and held out his arms while his old lover eyed the sex machines and several trestles in different materials and heights.

“My favorite place,” Seraphiel sighed and sat down in a sex chair by the wall, eyeing the room which he now had complete oversight of.

“You just liked to watch the others,” Dionysus chuckled and winked to Gabriel, “angels have limited social skills, no shame of their naked ‘ _vessels’_ , and can keep going like…” The Greek shook his head, unable to come up with an adequate reference. “They are quite exhibitionistic and apparently did something I was unable to see.”

“They preened each other’s wings, and two of them became one. It was… beautiful beyond words,” Seraphiel stated from his place in the chair and made Gabriel raise his eyebrows, wondering if there would be more eggs in heaven in a short while.

“I see,” the pagan hummed and raked his eyes over the seraph’s body before turning and pulling out the smallest trestle from its place beside the wall and returned to the middle of the room with it, “how about you get up on the trestle and Lo-ve and I can examine your wings.”

The angel immediately got up from the chair and eagerly crossed the room to lay down on his stomach on the support. The celestial unfolded his wings and leisurely stretched them out. His inner pair stretched out to the side with the ends gently brushing the smooth tiles while his other pair reached for the ceiling, shimmering with grace and showing them off for the pagans. Gabriel licked his lips as he watched how a couple of feathers had become twisted and fuzzy from the treatment they’d received from him.

“Examine them to your hearts’ content, I shall enjoy it,” Seraphiel declared and shifted his lower wings forward, making it possible to approach him from behind without stepping on his feathers.

Both of the pagans examined the wings and Gabriel threw a glance to Dionysus, seeing that he seemed happy with caressing the feathers and placing them right where two had been entwined. Seraphiel hummed and sighed, basking in the attention his wings were receiving. Gabriel pretended to not know anything and asked how to preen Seraphiel’s wings using the oil in his oil glands. The seraph happily showed them and taught the two interested pagans how to preen, but it quickly ended up with the seraph half-preened, completely naked and being teased by the pagans. Gabriel grinned as he listened to the moans and whines coming from Seraphiel as he coaxed out more and more oil while watching how Dionysus did the same thing. The Greek god then walked around the angel and caressed his hair.

“My beloved Seraphiel,” Dionysus murmured as he massaged the angel’s scalp and Seraphiel’s green eyes looked up to him, “the sounds you make are absolutely divine.”

“Blasphemy,” the seraph panted with a smile and reached out to grab a hold of the demigod’s hips. Without a word, Seraphiel pulled him closer and ended up with the hard erection in his face. Tryingly he kissed the head and watched Dionysus’ eyes in case he did anything wrong.

Daniel, his vessel, had told him that sex was about giving and receiving, and for so long Dionysus had been the one to give him everything without Seraphiel having to give anything back. Thinking that he might be able to please his chosen Master, he gently started to suck at the head.

“Just what I wanted Ser,” Dionysus praised as he watched how his last angel began to learn how to suck him off. Seraphiel was careful and did just like he’d felt Dionysus do to him. The seraph flicked his tongue over the slit as his lips massaged around the head.

“Ser, you’re a quick learner,” the Greek god moaned lowly and grabbed hold of one wing, near an oil gland, causing Seraphiel to groan. Wanting more, Dionysus’ hips began to slowly gyrate, carefully so that Seraphiel wasn’t going to choke on him. Gabriel watched for a few moments, but then decided to join in the play and entered Seraphiel with his fingers. The angel made a surprised noise and Dionysus looked down on him with worry, before realizing that his old lover was stretching the angel again.

“Seraphiel, you’re absolutely gorgeous,” Gabriel praised as he watched the trembling wings and his fingers deep inside the angel.

“I agree with Loki,” Dionysus grinned and Seraphiel looked up to the Greek with mirth in his eyes. Seraphiel’s hands pulled Dionysus closer to him and he felt the cock hit the back of his throat. He started to pull Dionysus hips in a rhythmic pattern, letting the Greek know that he wanted him to fuck his throat.

“You sure about this, Ser? Aren’t we moving too quickly?” Dionysus wondered as he began to push his hips deeper into Seraphiel’s mouth. The angel only moaned around Dionysus length.

“Okay then,” Dionysus murmured and took a gentle grip into Seraphiel’s hair, “push me away if it becomes too much.”

“Mhm,” Seraphiel moaned, feeling how the fingers in his ass were replaced with something bigger and warmer. The seraph closed his eyes and used his hands to pull Dionysus closer and closer, Seraphiel choked and pushed the Greek away. He coughed and gasped despite not needing air and Dionysus got down on his knees to face the angel.

“It’s okay, Seraphiel, learning to please someone takes time,” Dionysus caressed the angel’s face as Gabriel waited for Seraphiel to get used to his size, “just start with sucking on the top. You’re doing very well. To deepthroat you relax your throat, but it takes time to learn.”

“I want to please you,” Seraphiel murmured and Dionysus gave him a deep kiss.

“You always are, Ser.”

“I wanna try again,” Seraphiel stated and Dionysus nodded and got up.

“Don’t go too fast,” Dionysus suggested and watched as the angel eagerly guided the hard cock into his mouth. The Greek sent a glance to his old lover, seeing him buried in Seraphiel’s ass and preening the wings. Seraphiel once again began with sucking on the head and using his lips to give the demigod pleasure. Dionysus grew hard again as the angel eagerly sucked him off. Seraphiel groaned as he felt how the warm and slicked up cock of Loki began to move in and out of him, filling him up before pulling out again, gently as if he was going to break if he did it any harder.

“Loki, more,” Seraphiel begged with Dionysus’ cock in his mouth and felt how his entire body started to rock forward as the Nordic god followed his wishes.

“Good,” Seraphiel sighed and continued to suck, but it wasn’t long before he pulled the Greek closer to him, devouring Dionysus further. As Seraphiel stopped pulling him, Dionysus felt how the head touched the back of Seraphiel’s throat. The angel closed his eyes and concentrated on relaxing his throat while feeling how something pushed in and out of his ass and pleasurable sparks went through his body from his wings. Seraphiel pulled Dionysus hips closer, feeling the cock enter his throat. He pulled the Greek closer, slowly devouring the cock.

“Wow, Ser, so good,” Dionysus groaned as he felt how Seraphiel swallowed around his cock. The angel’s eyes opened and he jerked a bit in Dionysus’ hips, trying to get him to move. Slowly, Dionysus pushed his cock the last bit before pulling out slightly, and then pushing in again. Carefully, Dionysus started to fuck Seraphiel’s throat.

Seraphiel was not happy with the speed of which Dionysus and Loki fucked him. They had both teased him beyond neediness by the preening, and now they fucked him too gently. He needed it more. He pushed Dionysus away and the Greek quickly moved.

“Loki, fuck me like you mean it!” Seraphiel demanded breathlessly and then gave the Greek pagan a glare, “and you too, Dion.”

“Sure you can handle it?” Loki questioned from behind him and Seraphiel gently swatted him with a wing, making the pagan laugh and give him just what he wanted. The seraph held into Dionysus’ hips groaning at the sparks of pleasure that ran through him as Loki fucked into him with more passion. As he got used to the pounding he started to suck on Dionysus’ cock, quickly pulling the pagan’s hips closer to his mouth. Seraphiel relaxed his throat again and then pulled in Dionysus in a rhythmic thrusting.

“Such a quick learner!” Dionysus praised as he took a gentle grasp of Seraphiel’s hair and let his hips snap forward, fucking the angel’s throat while his ex-lover fucked the angel’s ass. Dionysus’ balls struck Seraphiel’s chin with each horny thrust and the Greek moaned at the tightness.

“Seraphiel, push me away if you can’t handle it,” Dionysus demanded in a strained voice and took a grip around the back of Seraphiel’s head before driving himself deeper.

“Oh, fuck, Ser,” Dionysus groaned as he pounded his crotch into Seraphiel’s face, close to reaching the end.

Gabriel grinned and timed his forceful thrust together with the Greek’s making Seraphiel’s body push up against Dionysus even further.

“Seraphiel,” Dionysus groaned and kept pounding into the angel’s throat groaning and jerking his hips in a more animalistic way, “fuck Ser! So close!”

Dionysus used his whole body to pound his cock into the angel and threw his head back as he climaxed, shooting all of his seed deep into the angel’s throat. The Greek pulled out and cautiously looked down on the angel to see if anything was wrong, but Seraphiel only grinned up at him.

“I pleased you,” the angel stated smugly and Dionysus caressed a hand through his hair.

“That you did,” the Greek god down on his knees and gave the angel a sloppy kiss as Gabriel decided to pull in the angel’s feathers, causing Seraphiel to moan. Gabriel switched his position, returning his hands to Seraphiel’s waist and then thrusted into him, hard and fast.

“Oh!” Seraphiel groaned and broke the kiss as he felt pleasure spark through him like lightening and Dionysus got up to massage the angel’s oil glands.

“En elo!” the angel cried out in Enochian and Gabriel felt the angel tighten around his hard erection.

“Fuck,” the trickster moaned and came, but his hips continued to pound the angel for a couple of more thrusts, emptying himself into the willing seraph.

For the reminder of the day both of the pagans took turns fucking Seraphiel from behind and preening his wings. The seraph only gasped and moaned as the pagans brought him pleasure. Soon enough, Gabriel realized that once Seraphiel had his oil glands massaged and he was about to come his wings emitted the sounds of harps. The sound came as a feather’s barbs twitched and went from soft to hard in a moment. The trickster found that he enjoyed listening to the feathers combined with the angel’s moans. They moved from the trestle to the large bed and Dionysus rode the angel as Gabriel preened his wings, causing Seraphiel to buck, twist and moan.

Once the evening came both of the pagans were exhausted, but they laughed drunkenly as they stripped out of their clothes in Dionysus’ sleeping room. Gabriel buried himself in the bed, playfully stealing all of the covers so Dionysus had to fight him for a few seconds before being able to bury himself in them. Seraphiel didn’t care about the covers as he was comfortably warm on his own, and he had left his pants in the joy room. The seraph crawled into the bed and folded two wings over the pagans.

 


	26. Betrayal of Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Gabriel is promiscuous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-08-31  
> Words: 5 100

Gabriel yawned and buried his head deeper into the space between a naked chest and the bed. He was enveloped in a safe scent of feathers, Seraphiel, sex and Dionysus. He inhaled the warmth of Seraphiel, an angel he’d known nearly as long as he’d been alive, and felt an arm move above him to let a hand caress through his hair. Despite his inability to sleep, Seraphiel had clearly stayed in bed with them while they slept. Gabriel made a content noise and reached out to return the gesture and card his fingers through the feathers of the first of the seraphs. The fifth angel ever created.

“Morning, Loki,” Seraphiel’s voice whispered, aware that he was awake, and massaged Gabriel’s scalp, oblivious of the fact that they were the same species as the archangel gently carded through the feathers of the wing that was holding both him and Dionysus together.

“The spell should’ve worn off by now,” Gabriel grumbled, feeling the heavy egg in his chest, the drowsiness of his body and the content satisfaction. He smiled at the comfortable warmth that threatened to drag him back into unconsciousness, enjoying the state his body was in. It was such a rare feeling, and something that was impossible for him to replicate unless he tore out his own grace.

“I might be drunk on rose water, but I can use my powers when concentrating enough. I remade the markings on my back,” the angel informed in a hushed voice and Gabriel hummed quietly, “thank you, Loki, it’s the best gift I could’ve ever received.”

“Why aren’t you speaking with an old dialect now?” the archangel wondered with a grin, moving his head to kiss the chest just where the opening to the pouch for an egg, not that the seraph had an egg, but Gabriel couldn’t help but imagine himself sharing the egg with another angel.

“Shh,” Seraphiel hushed quietly and caressed a hand over the trickster’s hair, “I just enjoy having Dion punish me for it.”

“Like I thought,” Gabriel grinned and massaged the wings, gleefully getting a low moan from the seraph. “How about we head for another room and let Dion sleep. I’ve never seen him fall asleep that fast.”

“He’s been involved with a lot of angels these past months. I think he needs the sleep,” Seraphiel murmured and smirked amused, “we’ve got stamina, and if you want to I can prove it, over and over, and over again.” The seraph’s challenge made Gabriel grin amused; he wanted to take it, try to exhaust the angel, preen his wings, and show him who he actually was.

“You’re on,” Gabriel whispered and felt the angel move to help him up. Without talking both of them headed towards the joy room and Gabriel happily closed the door and saw Seraphiel sit down on the enormous bed.

“I hereby challenge you to a sex-off,” Gabriel began as he walked up to the angel, seeing Seraphiel grin.

“I have no idea what that means, but I like it if sex is involved,” the seraph studied Gabriel’s golden eyes and felt how anticipation sparked throughout his body.

“I challenge you to a sex-duel. We’re going to have sex until either one of us surrenders or has enough. We switch topping after coming, and it ends when someone says ‘I surrender’,” Gabriel explained the rules while hungrily watching Seraphiel’s green eyes.

“I hereby accept your challenge, Loki,” Seraphiel eagerly grinned up at the deity that then used some of his pagan strength to push the angel into the bed, making him bounce.

“Good, now get further up on the bed and I’ll start topping,” Gabriel grinned and saw how the angel got further up on the bed so that his legs weren’t dangling off of it. Raking his eyes over the willing body allowed Gabriel to see the interested erection on the angel; Seraphiel was already hard.

“Oh, you’re going to lose so badly,” the archangel chuckled darkly, making the seraph smirk smugly.

“And I’ll make you eat your words, Loki,” Seraphiel’s teeth hinted in a smile, “and my tongue.”

“The sex-off is now on,” Gabriel stated and got up on the bed to straddle Seraphiel’s hips.

Gabriel kissed his way down the tendril on Seraphiel’s neck, digging a hand deep into the soft feathers and massaged the wing. He was almost plastered over the seraph’s body, hungrily listening to the warm purring and shallow gasps. He pretended not to know exactly where the opening to the egg pouch was as he pressed tender kisses over the opening, making Seraphiel groan.

“Oh, sensitive,” Gabriel grinned against the skin, knowing exactly how responsive the cavity was to being touched, even though it was on the vessel.

“Yes,” the seraph moaned and drew a hand through the trickster’s hair, “angels have body parts that you have not.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind…” Gabriel dragged his tongue across the opening and massaged an oil gland while watching Seraphiel arch against him and feeling the hand in his hair tighten almost painfully.

“Loki,” the angel wantonly moaned, unaware how much Gabriel was affected by the sounds and smells coming from his wings and grace. An angel, an old friend, underneath him, spread out for him to take, wings soft and welcoming, glands swollen and leaking, the air full of the aroma of interested angel and said angel moaning at his every touch. It was almost too much. Gabriel was almost slipping and giving way to his instincts that told him to bring out his own wings to play. How he wanted it.

To punish Seraphiel for what he was doing to him, Gabriel continued to massage the pouch with his lips and sneaked a second hand into Seraphiel’s wings, quickly finding an oil gland and massaging around it. Seraphiel threw his head and bucked his hips, groaning as he arched his back, so close to the release he craved.

“Loki,” the voice was desperate and Gabriel had to swallow as his grace cried out to begin purring, to show the same affection as Seraphiel.

“Lo-,” the name died into a whine as Gabriel moved his hands along the wings, further away from the glands. “I need it,” Seraphiel wailed and grasped into the trickster’s behind, bucking his hips to gain any kind of pleasure. “Please!”

* * *

The sound of a phone woke up Dionysus, making him yawn and turn over in the bed to pick up the phone from the floor. He noted, not the least surprised, that he was alone in the bed. Drowsily he picked the phone from the pants pockets and answered.

“What can I do for you this ungodly hour? Any moment before I’ve awoken is too soon.”

Silence.

“Eh, that’s not logical… Who are you?” a man asked in the phone and Dionysus laughed.

“You called me, buddy,” he commented amused.

“No, I called…” at the other end of the phone, Sam stood in the middle of the library and frowned, wondering if he should tell the stranger Gabriel’s name, “I called a friend.”

“Right! Pants! I don’t wear pants…” Dionysus wanted to slap himself; Loki had left his pants by the bed, which meant that he probably hadn’t dragged Seraphiel far.

“Excuse me?” Sam wondered, confused by the stranger.

“Nothing…” Dionysus smiled, liking the voice in the phone.

“Right… Are you the friend? The old friend that my friend was going to visit?” Sam asked cryptically.

“Eh, yes, if your friend is short and loves candy. Who are you?” the god questioned curiously.

“I’m a friend that’s worried about him. He was supposed to call last night,” Sam informed.

“Ah, I see.”

“Just out of curiosity, how old are you?”

“What?”

“How old are you? Lo said he was visiting a very old friend,” the hunter stated and smirked, “I can only assume that he meant someone _way_ beyond a normal lifespan.”

“Oh, so you know Lo,” Dionysus grinned and sat up, intrigued by the voice, “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

“I’m human; age 30, and you?”

“You know a lot for being a human. I’m… Wait… 3 579, I think… It’s too early for math.”

“Wow, so that would put you around Ancient Egypt…”

Dionysus barked with laugher.

“Yes, but Ancient Egypt also lasted for 3 000 years,” the god informed.

“How about the Persian Empire?”

“Now you’re closer, I was born 500 years before Persia, during the Babylonian Empire.”

“I see, that’s fascinating. I bet you have stories I can’t even dream of. Which pantheon do you belong to?”

“Greek and Roman,” Dionysus answered before he realized that no one stayed alive by giving away free information.

“But wait, didn’t Ancient Greece start after the Persian Empire?”

“Start and start… it’s not like there was no civilization and then poof everything started. I was born during the Greek Bronze Age, which came before that golden age called Ancient Greece.”

“Ah, I see, sorry, my history knowledge is a bit rusty.”

“No worries.”

“You’re nice for a god.”

“Meet a lot?”

“A few, most of them tried to kill or eat us,” Sam confessed, unaware of how Dionysus froze; only one kind of human survived a meet with a malicious god and spoke about it calmly.

“You’re a hunter,” the God of Wine stated in horror.

“Yes, Lo lives with us for the moment, could you put him on?”

“He lives with hunters? What? But-, _you’re hunters_! You hunt _us!_ ” Dionysus exclaimed distressed.

“We’re not that kind of hunters.”

“There’s no other kind of hunter!”

“Well, we’re friends with a werewolf, and a vampire, and Loki,” Sam stated and scratched his chin as he listened to the clearly freaked out god huffing in the phone.

“No…” it was more of a wince than a word, “I really liked this place… I’ll have to burn it down…”

“We hunt things that kill, so as long as we don’t find you standing over a dead body and eating it we won’t bother coming after you.”

“What a load of crap!” Dionysus yelled in the phone.

“Okay, I do understand that you have had to fight hunters all your life, or well, all of your life as a god. Just because you are one. Lo said that you’re one of the good guys. He also mentioned someone else, but I don’t remember their name. A god of a river, I think.”

“Did he mention me by name?”

“No.”

“Then he doesn’t trust you!”

“Eh, okay… Could you put him on?”

The was a growl in the phone as an answer.

“You just wait a minute. I’ll get him.”

* * *

“So this is where you are?” a voice interrupted Gabriel and he sent a grin to his old friend, seeing that he was as naked as them, but as Dionysus was scowling furiously Gabriel froze in terror; was he not allowed to touch Seraphiel without Dionysus playing along?

“Dion,” Seraphiel grinned groggily to the pagan and the archangel sat up.

“Sorry, we’re having a sex-off, so I’m torturing him,” Gabriel smiled tryingly and watched the wings tremble, but Dionysus didn’t seem happy by that. To test out his speculation that he wasn’t allowed Seraphiel’s company he suddenly pressed down on an oil gland, making the angel arch.

“Yea, I can tell,” Dionysus snorted amused as he began to approach and rolled his eyes before he held out a phone, proving that Gabriel’s assumption had been wrong.

“Your _friend_ ,” the Greek god clenched his teeth and Gabriel took the phone, wondering what was wrong and made a guess as to which of the brothers had made the call.

“Yo, Samsquatch,” Gabriel greeted and bit his lip as Seraphiel grinned and started to jerk him off, “the fuck did you say to Dionysus to make him this cranky?”

“I might have inadvertently told him that we’re hunters and he might’ve freaked,” Sam confessed in Gabriel’s ear and made the archangel laugh. A gasp left his lips as Seraphiel, in one swift move, picked him up and pushed him into the bed, drawing a sultry chuckle from Gabriel.

“Well, Gigantor, your kind are kind of scary to pagans who prefer to not kill,” the trickster stated and happily watched how Seraphiel kissed his stomach on his way towards his erection.

“I tried to tell him that we’re not just going after anything. I mean we’re friends with a pack of werewolves, a vampire, an angel and you. That should count for something, but I guess that if you’ve been hunted all your life you’ll have a hard time trusting that anyone doesn’t hunt you just for fun,” as Sam began to speak, Gabriel watched how his fellow angel started to suck him off. His fingers immediately went to caress the ruffled sex-hair that the seraph was sporting. Seraphiel stretched out his wings, watching the trickster’s eyes follow them eagerly. Gabriel threw the phone up towards the ceiling, surprising both Seraphiel and Dionysus, before teleporting after it. Gabriel landed behind the seraph with the cellphone in his hand and then used his strength to push the angel to the bed as his wings flailed and straddled his hips. Before Seraphiel knew what was happening Gabriel pushed his hand deep into the plumage and distorted and pulled in the feathers. Seraphiel cried out loudly.

“What was that?” Sam questioned suspiciously, “are you torturing someone?”

“Yea, _torturing_ …” Gabriel snickered and caressed the slanted feathers.

“Please, Loki, do it again!” Seraphiel pleaded and held his wings so that Gabriel could grab a handful of feathers.

“Oh my God!” Sam yelled in the phone as he realized what had to be going on at the other end, “you’re disgusting! You’re having sex right now!”

“Yes, I am!” Gabriel barked with laugher and as he heard that the phone call ended he abandoned the phone to the side of the bed.

“Now where were we?” Gabriel chuckled darkly and used both of his hands to caress the wings of the celestial before he grabbed a handful on two wings and pulled gently, making Seraphiel arch his back and dig his hands into the sheet.

“Why don’t you join us?” the trickster grinned towards Dionysus, but the deity smirked and shook his head.

“Actually, I think I’ll watch for a bit,” the Greek pulled out a chair from the corner and sat down to watch the torture commence.

“Your loss,” the trickster shrugged and eagerly grabbed a handful of feathers.

* * *

The reality Daniel saw was fuzzy, like a dream, but it bled away and he was able to see everything clearly. He panted and his entire body shivered with ecstasy. He knew that Seraphiel was using his body to have lots of sex, and that he currently was in bed with Loki while Dionysus watched them and touched himself.

Gabriel watched in horror how Seraphiel vanished deep into his vessel, dimming his halo, and how the vessel blinked confused.

“Hungry,” Daniel murmured and then remembered that he was in bed with someone. He focused in on the face of Loki, seeing that he looked nothing like in the movies and grinned. Loki grinned back and tilted his head, amazed that the vessel wasn’t having a panic attack at being naked in bed with someone they didn’t know.

“So Loki,” Daniel caressed his hands over the trickster’s stomach, “where were we?”

“Huh?” Loki made a surprised noise and gently pealed Daniel’s hands off of him, before pinning them over his head.

“You,” Loki leaned down and studied Daniel’s green eyes mere inches from his face, “are not Seraphiel.”

“You can tell?” Daniel asked surprised and heard Dionysus close in on his right.

“Of course I can tell, I’m a god!” Loki laughed and pulled away, releasing the vessel’s wrists as he did.

“Yes, you are,” Daniel grinned, knowing that he shouldn’t mess with delusional people’s truths as they could get violent. Daniel knew that he had delusions on his own, but he liked his delusions of being an angel’s vessel and didn’t want to medicate them away. Yet.

“Who are you?” Dionysus lay down on the bed and studied the vessel, knowing fully well that angels needed to take over humans to walk on Earth.

“Daniel Reed,” the human stated and studied Dionysus’ brown eyes.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Loki wondered, still sitting on top of him, and tilted his head.

“Because Seraphiel isn’t allowed to take over,” Daniel confessed and grinned, “I’m aware of everything he does and can take my body back whenever I want to; all according to our deal. Otherwise he isn’t allowed to use my body.”

“So you’re aware of exactly everything we’ve done?” Dionysus questioned astonished, “and haven’t told me to stop at any point.”

“No, Seraphiel has a small case of Stockholm’s syndrome for you despite not fearing for his life, and I have enjoyed everything so far. Though, being shackled, horny, and watching the others having sex and having Seraphiel refuse to be touched was annoying.”

“So you don’t mind that we’re all guys?” Loki grinned with a raised eyebrow.

“Not at all, I’m pansexual,” Daniel stated happily and raked his eyes over Loki’s body, before starting to touch him again.

“Then the sex-off is still on,” Loki grinned and leaned forward, resting his hands on either side of Daniel’s head.

“I’m not going to lose,” the human grinned and defiantly stared at the god on top of him as he sat up, suddenly realizing that he still had Seraphiel’s wings. He stared at them shocked, not believing what he was seeing and moved them a bit, making them twitch.

Loki suddenly pushed him down, making him bounce on the bed and felt sparks travel down from his chest to his groin. Why was his chest so sensitive? Right, his delusion of angels had a pouch there…

Daniel quickly reached up and locked his hands around Loki’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Lips met his and Loki’s tongue was in his mouth before he knew to respond. Their tongues danced and caressed each other as Loki shifted. Daniel didn’t know what happened, but suddenly his legs were placed around the god’s waist and something hot breached his entrance. Loki’s lips left his mouth as he sat up and started to gently push into the human, knowing that Daniel’s ring muscle was stretched out from how much sex his body had had before.

Loki’s hands rested on his hips as the god pushed in and pulled out, gently to let the human turn out orders if he wanted to, but Daniel only moaned. Slowly he let his head tilt back and he groaned.

“Use me, Loki,” Daniel begged and felt how Loki’s hot erection pushed into him.

“Good, beg for more,” Loki murmured hotly in his ear before pulling away and Daniel looked up to him, seeing that his eyes shimmered in silver.

“Please, Loki,” Daniel continued and stared mesmerized into the silvery eyes, “I need you. I need more of you! Deeper!” Loki grinned madly, feeling how the soul beneath him began to power up his pagan abilities.

“Beg!” Loki demanded and Dionysus got off the bed to watch how his friend began to feed off of the human’s soul, but it meant that Loki might lose his sex-off.

“Loki!” Daniel cried out as the pagan took him painfully slow, “take me! Fuck me!”

Loki’s mouth watered as he felt his pagan powers increase and he knew what kind of climax he could reach if the human continued to feed him.

“How badly do you want me?” Loki groaned and performed a hard thrust, making the human cry out in pleasure.

“Just like that! I need you! Fuck me harder! Please!” Daniel felt as though he was dying from the lack of attention and threw his head, “use me like a fucking sex toy!”

Loki swallowed deeply and performed another hard thrust into the willing body, groaning as all of his pagan powers wanted to take the human and mark him as his worshipper, because that was what Daniel was doing, whether he understood it or not. A wave of pure power rushed over Loki when Daniel gritted his teeth.

“Fuck me…” it wasn’t more than a whisper that fell from the human’s lips and Loki finally lost his cool and started to thrust deeply into the eager body beneath him.

“Daniel!” Loki’s voice echoed with power and Dionysus grinned expectantly, knowing what was coming, “you’re mine!”

“I’m yours!” Daniel cried out and held hard into the bedsheets, unaware what he was agreeing to, but the pleasure was taking over his mind as Loki’s hips snapped forward, filling up his ass completely. “Fuck me! More!”

Loki’s hands grasped hard into Daniel’s waist and thrusted into him harder and faster. A small pain entered the human’s pleasure muddled mind, but he thought nothing of it as he only could feel the hot cock pushing against his prostate.

“Yes, Loki!” Daniel cried out and threw his head, “more!” Loki gasped as another wave of power rushed over his body and he finished marking the human’s hip, silver flashed in the room and the bed creaked as Loki pounded into the human.

“Yes, god yes!” Daniel cried out, feeling how close he was to coming as Loki made the bed bounce beneath them. Loki threw his head back and groaned as he plunged his erection into the human and fed off of his soul. The Nordic god came into the tightness of Daniel’s ass and collapsed on top of him.

“No!” Daniel groaned disappointedly, knowing that it was over when the pagan collapsed.

“Relax, kiddo, I’m far from done with you!” the trickster chuckled and decided to finish the ritual they had inadvertently started.

“Vilja vera minn. Minn gildr,” Loki said with a grin and placed his hand over Daniel’s heart and shot his powers into the human’s body. Daniel threw his head back with a cry of pleasure as his hips jerked and he came. For every jerk of his body, he came and panted harshly as he couldn’t help but to cry out.

After a minute, Loki removed his hand and grinned as Daniel collapsed completely on the bed, satisfied and exhausted.

“That… That…” Daniel groaned and opened his eyes, “has to be… cheating.”

“What?” Loki questioned with a lopsided grin.

“The sex-off, that’s totally, cheating,” the human breathed hard and closed his eyes again, even the lights in the room seemed too bright. The world was spinning and he felt lightheaded.

“It is,” Dionysus interjected with amusement, “it’s cheating and Loki lost.”

“Fine, whatever,” Gabriel shrugged and made an annoyed wave even though he was happy, “can’t win them all the time.”

“Hah, I won,” Daniel grinned and rolled his head to the side where Dionysus was standing.

“Congratulations,” the Greek said with a grin as he sat down on the bed and caressed Daniel’s hair out of his face.

“So, Daniel,” Loki began and watched how the eye of the human opened to look at him, “tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Daniel Reed. 36 years old. Blood type B minus. Likes videogames, though not online playing, and please don’t freak out; I’m a psychologist,” Daniel worriedly sent glances between the pagans, seeing only confusion in their eyes.

“Why would that make us freak out?” Dionysus wondered with a chuckle.

“Because-,” Daniel interrupted himself, knowing that he couldn’t tell them that they were delusional for believing that they were gods, “some people freak and think that I can read thoughts…”

“Hah, that’s so stupid!” Loki barked and began to laugh.

“Yea, well, some people have irrational fears, and some hear voices,” Daniel smiled gently, thinking of himself and the soothing voice of an angel inside his head. 

Loki pulled out of him and collapsed on top of the feathery appendage beside Daniel, smiling at the fact that he looked very content where he lay. Dionysus quietly got up on the bed, feeling his heart pounding in his chest and started to caress his hands over Daniel’s body. His erection pounded after having seen Loki feed off of Daniel’s soul and he wanted to place a mark of his own, just above where Loki’s mark was. Daniel’s eyes opened when he felt hands on his body and he smiled a high smile.

“Can you read my thoughts now?” Dionysus grinned as he placed himself between Daniel’s legs and caressed them, making the human grin.

“You wanna get some of this action!” Daniel chuckled, but felt completely spent from Loki’s powers. For a second, he hesitated, but then decided to challenge himself. Much to Dionysus surprise, Daniel grinned and opened his legs more.

“Fuck me until I can’t think anymore,” Daniel murmured and tried to lift his legs, but they only twitched under Dionysus’ hands.

“Are you sure?” Dionysus wondered and looked down to Daniel’s stomach, seeing the many blotches of cum, knowing how exhausted some of his worshippers became after being exposed to his powers.

“No, but fuck me anyway,” Daniel chuckled and was able to place one leg around the Greek. Dionysus grinned and moved in closer. He leaned down and placed a kiss on Loki’s mark before he placed himself right on the bed with Daniel’s legs on his shoulders. His hard cock was dripping as he angled himself and he sent a glance up to the human to see if he was ready. Daniel wetted his lips and let his half-lidded eyes scan over the Greek’s beautifully tan body. Dionysus placed his hands on the human’s hips and then felt his cock easily sink into the soft cavern. The god carefully pulled out, grinning at the feeling of his erection being surrounded by heat.

“Dion,” Daniel sighed and closed his eyes as he let his head fall back, relishing in the fact that he felt completely relaxed.

After a few thrusts, Dionysus hummed intrigued at the fact that the soul wasn’t giving him anything, which meant that Daniel wasn’t reacting to him strongly despite the breaths. The Greek shifted forward and then plunged into the human, making Daniel’s eyes fly open with a gasp of excitement as his oversensitive prostate was struck head on and sent sparks over his stomach and down to his crotch. Dionysus felt his skin tingle and grinned at the fact that the human clearly liked it roughly. The god suddenly went from soft and loving to rough and passionate, causing Daniel to cry out and arch as his oversensitive body came alive.

“Fuck, oh my god,” Daniel gasped as Dionysus wrapped his left arm around the human’s legs and used some of his godlike strength to roughly enter Daniel in fast thrusts. Daniel’s hands clenched into the sheet of the bed as his entire body rocked with each shove into him. His body was spent from the long sex-marathon he and Loki had had and then from Loki’s powers. He was exhausted in a way he’d never been before and yet his body craved more.

Dionysus groaned as he felt his powers being fed by the brilliant human soul and bit his lip as wave after wave of power turned him more and more hot-blooded and aroused. Having a human worship him intensely was the next best thing to live sacrifices, which was why pagans tended to be associated with orgies. Virgin sacrifices for sexual worship was the best as they tended to react stronger and give off more power.

“More!” Daniel winced with every shove into his body, and Dionysus knew that he was causing the human bruises, but the harder he thrusted, the more the soul provided.

“Ah, I’m a sex-toy! A fucking sex-toy!” the human cried out and the demigod grinned.

“You’re my sex-toy, Daniel!” Dionysus laughed breathlessly, feeling himself close in on his orgasm, “I’m gonna fill you up, make you belong to me!”

“Yes!” Daniel approved without opening his eyes and missing that Dionysus eyes turned purple, “fill me up, Dionysus!”

The demigod groaned as wave after wave of power rushed over his body. Dionysus grasped Daniel’s red hip with his right hand, just above where Loki’s marking was burnt into the skin forever.

“Gíne dikós mou,” Dionysus gasped and burnt his own marking into the hip while thrusting deeply into the human, hearing Daniel groan from his treatment. The moment Dionysus had marked the human he started to jerk Daniel off, moving his hand quickly over the erection. Swear words fell from Daniel’s lips and Dionysus’ hips shuddered as he came inside the human, mixing his cum with Loki’s.

“More,” Daniel panted harshly as Dionysus pulled out and gently placed down the legs on the bed, feeling electrified from the power the soul had offered him. Without a word, the pagan placed a hand on the middle of Daniel’s chest and shot his powers into the human’s body, getting the same reaction. Daniel arched up into the hand that pressed down on him, and his hips jerked as he came over and over again.

“I won’t stop until you tell me to!” Dionysus grinned and felt the rush of power give him a high.

“Gh,” Daniel gritted his teeth as he came as spasms through his body. He never wanted it to end, but once he felt a burning sensation in his chest something primal told him to stop; it was dangerous.

“Now!” Daniel cried out and Dionysus hand left an angry red mark on Daniel’s chest. The human gasped for air as through he’d never tasted it before and groaned.

“Wow,” Loki’s voice cut through the haze and Daniel turned towards the sound, but he was too tired to open his eyes, “that was hot.”

“So, you’re ready to go again?” Dionysus grinned at his pagan friend that was lying on top of the wing, stroking his own erection.

“Oh, yes,” Loki murmured deeply, “but I think our human friend might be ready for some sleep.”

“No,” Daniel forced his eyes open, groaning and hung his arm over them to protect them from the light.

“I wanna be used like a sex-toy,” the psychologist muttered, feeling his cheeks heat at the sentence.

“Oho!” Loki sounded impressed and Daniel could hear and feel him close in, “you haven’t had enough yet?”

Gabriel waited for a reply from the human, only to realize that he had fallen asleep. The two pagans grinned towards each other and in unison got up. Gabriel picked up the ends the left wings and placed them closer to the sleeping vessel while Dionysus did the same, but to the right wings. They both helped to roughly clean Daniel and then tucked him into the bed.

“So where were we?” Dionysus grinned and looked over his old lover’s body, seeing the interested erection. Gabriel mirrored the pagan’s expression and began to stroke himself.

“I have no idea,” the trickster shook his head theatrically, seeing how Dionysus’ eyes followed how his hand moved over his cock.

The rest of the day was spent in each other’s company before the sun began to set and they had to get dressed for the car ride. Gabriel carried the sleeping vessel out of the mansion and into Dionysus’ passenger van. Daniel gently snored in the back seat as the two pagans sat in the front seat. 


	27. Crown of Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is hurt, steals a car and gets drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-09-02  
> Words: 5 500

Sam stood in the library and stared at the phone in his hand with a blush. He felt strangely hurt by the knowledge that Gabriel had left to have sex with someone. Sam had thought they were getting close, but it seemed like the archangel had no real interest in him other as a bed-warmer.

Why would an angel, _archangel,_ have interest in in him, _the Boy with Demon Blood, Lucifer’s Vessel,_ the _Abomination?_ How could he think that highly of himself? Gabriel might be strange for an angel, but he certainly could never be interested in _his own brother’s_ vessel.

The hunter sighed miserably, but then realized that the voice in the phone had been a man. Gabriel was having sex with a man? Gabriel swung both ways? Sam was struck with the sudden shock, but still his jaw clenched just by the mere thought of Gabriel in bed with someone else.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel’s somber voice suddenly pulled Sam out of his distressed and angry thoughts. The hunter swiftly realized that he had been standing in the middle of the library for too long to be normal, the phone in his hand was even making protesting cracks as his fingers were crushing it slowly. Sam relaxed his fists, but his hurt feelings remained as he turned around.

“ _You know what?!_ ” Sam began in a loud voice and pointed to the angel, “Gabriel is disgusting! A filthy, disgusting fucking bastard! God’s worst fucking creation!”

Castiel blinked slowly and then tilted his head with a concerned look, making Sam deflate as he didn’t get much of a reaction; he wanted to argue, yell and maybe even fight, but Castiel merely looked at him without defending his own brother’s actions. Maybe he even agreed to some extent.

“How are you holding up?” Castiel asked, remembering that Sam had told him to ask that question when someone was in emotional distress.

“ _What?!_ ” Sam yelled, not remembering that specific conversation and threw his hands in the air. He groaned as he left the library and abandoned the confused angel behind.

* * *

Sam hurried down into the garage, grabbed a key to a car and then stopped before looking over his shoulder at the key with a black head; he was going to ride in style. Sam hung up the key again and grabbed the Impala key, not caring that Dean was going to get annoyed. The hunter revved the engine as he started the car and then drove out of the garage seeing in the mirror how the doors automatically closed behind him. Not caring about where he went he drove south for a while, before he turned left, blasting Dean’s music deafeningly loudly. He didn’t care about where he was going, only that he could get away from the bunker.

As he drove the signs started to say “Kansas City”, making him follow them as they headed in his direction; straight, and away, far away from the bunker. After a few hours the hurt he’d felt had been digested into a dull ache and he felt ridiculous for his reaction, but it still didn’t make him turn back. Again, he wished that his life was normal, with normal troubles, and normal arguments. He wanted to worry about student loans and house payments, not angelic wars or leviathans hiding amongst people, waiting for their time to take over the planet.

Sam pressed the gas pedal, making the car surge forward and smiled a slanted smile; life certainly was unfair. Even if he wanted he couldn’t leave this life behind. He couldn’t get a job and start a normal life; that he’d already tried, and something always came back to haunt him, and now there were so much going on that he couldn’t leave. What would happen to heaven? What would happen to the leviathan? What about hell? Dean would be safe; he had both Castiel and Gabriel after all, but what would happen when Gabriel took over heaven and Castiel became human? Or died?

The hunter didn’t even want to think about the second option. Castiel couldn’t die. Sam couldn’t let him. He and Gabriel had spoken a lot about grace while in bed together and Sam knew how to collect it with the help of a black crystal. He frowned as he had a weak memory of throwing a fist full of those things into the side pocket of a bag in the trunk. If the bag was still in the trunk he could find one of the coordinates near Kansas City. He had all of the coordinates inside his cloud so that he would be able to get to the information whenever he needed it.

An hour later, he stopped the car at the side of the road and picked up the phone, seeing that he had one missed call from “Cas” and one new voice mail. Sam turned down the music and dialed his voice mail.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel began the message, “this is Castiel, Angel of the Lord, I’m guessing that you are listening to music, or you might not want to talk. I’m confused…” the rest of the message was just the sound of Castiel breathing in the phone until he ran out of seconds. Sam rolled his eyes and then wrote down his reply.

“Right on both counts: Listening to music. Don’t want to talk.” The hunter sent the message to the angel and then opened his document with all the coordinates finding one that said “Kansas, Kill Creek Park Lake”. He brought up a map on his phone, knowing that he had a few hours before sundown. Before he drove ahead, he got out of the car and checked if the bag was still in the trunk, easily finding it. He pocketed a crystal and then got into the vehicle, using his phone to find Kill Creek Park and then started the engine to follow the route.

* * *

Sam parked the car and then took his phone and headed off, happy that Dean hadn’t noticed the missing impala. Not that there were much that Dean could do about it at the moment, except call and yell at him, and then try to track him down, and Sam would let him; let him because he wanted a fight with Dean.

Dean. All of his thoughts were drawn to his brother as he walked into the forest, using his phone as a guide. Dean. The Righteous Man. Michael’s true vessel. The man that angels looked to with awe. The man that got to decide if the angels nuked a city or not. He who shared a profound bond with Castiel, but was too stubborn or stupid to understand what it meant despite the constant eye-fucking.

Sam clenched his teeth. His anger at life growing as he walked through the underbrush of the forest. He had looked to Castiel with love and awe. He had prayed to the angel after they met, every night so that Castiel would get to know that they were safe for the moment, but Castiel never even looked at him with anything other than pity as he’d known, known that Sam was Lucifer’s true vessel, or the future Boy King of Hell, the Abomination. The Boy with the Demon Blood. The Antichrist. Filthy, and tainted, and lost. He could never choose the right path, even though it looked like the right path. Soul marked for the Devil himself.

Dean. Dean. The perfect fucking Dean. Father’s little soldier. The brother who had gotten Sam possessed with Heaven’s Traitor, Gadreel. He who had the angel he wanted. He who got _whatever_ he wanted. The impala. Dad’s jokes. Dad’s hugs. He who got all the approval despite that it was Sam that had found out how to kill a monster, but his father had known, and never looked to Sam the same, known that Sam was a monster too. That’s why everything that Sam loved died in the end. Tainted by him. Even the demons died in his vicinity.

Sam had prayed to Castiel, begged him to come, begged him to help, long sentences in both English and Latin, but Dean barely had time to finish the angel’s nickname and he was there, trench coat and all. Sam had got the message, loud and clear; Sam was not on Heaven’s side and no angel would ever look at him with anything other than disgust, but it didn’t matter. He would never stop praying, so he prayed. He prayed to Castiel to tell him that they were fine and he prayed to all angels to thank them for their aid. They could hate him all they wanted, but he would pray.

Except Gabriel. Archangel Gabriel. Archherald of Heaven. Messenger of God. He Who Stands in the Presence of God. Archangel Gabriel, sweet-toothed and playful. Not caring about who won. Never displaying his power, despite his strength. He who snored so adorably when he slept, mewling and purring in the presence of Sam. Dirty, filthy Sam, with his dirty, filthy soul.

Sam had thought that maybe, maybe Gabriel could help him clear his taint, help him with his broken, filthy, tortured and shattered soul. He hadn’t asked yet, afraid of what the answer would be. Maybe no angel had that power. But Gabriel had helped him with his dreams, helped him, and then fainted. He’d slept better than ever. He still had nightmares of Lucifer, but it was like he was standing on the sidelines and watching, feeling no pain, just slight disgust at what he was seeing being done to himself. Somehow, Sam didn’t think Gabriel had the power right now to fix him.

The hunter growled to himself as he made his way through the forest while staring at the phone. Thinking of how wrong it was of him to go around and pick up dead, angles’ grace, but better that he did it than Dean. Dean was too pure for dirty work, he should leave that to the Abomination. Sam was after all already unclean and corrupted by demons.

With anger in his steps, Sam almost fell into a small impact crater, so he stopped and saw that he was at the right location. He looked around for what Gabriel had told him to look for; berries and moss. Sam found black crowberries and gently checked them over, seeing that they were at least three times as big as they were supposed to be; an angel had landed here. Died or not, he didn’t know.

Sam examined the area around the crater, drawing the black crystal in the dirt in a circle around it where he could see that the berries were too big. Sam recited the enchantment in Latin and then stabbed the crystal into a trunk, using some of his anger and watched as the ring around the area slowly began to glow, followed by the underbrush and the dirt. Sam watched in fascination how the grace traveled through the air, into the crystal and then ripped it out of the trunk before putting it in his pocket.

The hunter muttered to himself as he began to head back, scowling over the unfairness; all he’d ever wanted was a normal life. No monsters, no demons nor angels, they could all go fuck themselves. Sam wanted annoying neighbors who mowed the lawn too late, whose dog barked all night, who played too loud music, or annoyed him with stupid shit, like that his tree had branches on their side, or that his yard wasn’t as nice as theirs.

He didn’t want to be in love with an archangel; a stupid fucking _archangel_. Sam wasn’t even close to getting Gabriel. He could never get Gabriel. Gabriel had left to fuck some friend of a pagan; why couldn’t Sam be the one to satisfy him? Why hadn’t he asked Sam? Sam was kinky enough, right? He had drunken demon blood; so it was easy for something to enter Sam’s mouth, be it a cock or semen or blood. He was kinky enough for Gabriel, right?

The hunter rolled his eyes as the stupid thoughts that spun around in his head; Gabriel had flirted and hit on him, but the archangel wasn’t serious. Or was he? But he flirted with Dean too, asking Dean to whip him and chain him to the bed and have his way with the archangel.

Sam groaned to himself, knowing that angels didn’t have any sexual needs, at least Castiel seemed thoroughly asexual. It was only when he was human that he’d slept with someone. But angels being completely asexual didn’t explain the want and desire that seemed to exist between Castiel and his brother. Stupid fucking people. They were both there! Why didn’t they act?! It was so obvious!

The moment he knew that Gabriel needed a second person to sleep, he’d taken the opportunity, but Gabriel had not made any move towards anything sexual. The archangel was content to just hold him. Why didn’t he make a move?! Why did Gabriel leave to have sex when Sam was there? Ready to get down on his knees and worship Gabriel.

Sam snorted to himself at the thought of him worshipping Gabriel as if he was a god; Sam would rather die what do something that humiliating. Gabriel had an ego enough as it was. It was so unfair! All Dean would have to do would be to ask Castiel what he was feeling about them, and the angel would speak of his devotion to Dean. Dean wouldn’t understand what it meant, but Sam did. Castiel’s love for Dean was so strong that he would die for him, actually Castiel had died. Stupid fucking Dean and his stupid fucking homophobia. Maybe Sam could find a cupid, steal one of their arrows and stab his brother with it. Dean would deserve it. Stupid fucking hunter.

Sam kicked a small branch, snarling to himself; he wanted to be a lawyer. He wanted to put bad people in jail. He could even go so far as to be an FBI agent or police officer. But now it was too late. He was too old, too broken, too corrupt and too criminal. And he had all those fucking BOLOs on his head too.

Dean. Perfect fucking Dean. He, who wanted to be a hunter. He, who wanted to be a hero, and save people from things they didn’t even understand. The Family Business. He got everything he ever wanted. Sam had wanted to go with Death, but _no_ , Dean had to intervene with his own will. And Dean got whatever he wanted. Because of that, Sam was possessed and stitched together with pins and duct tape, barely fucking alive, but forced to live as a broken man.

Sam got back to the car and tossed the crystal into the bag, not caring if it would explode or do something strange, before he got into the front seat and drove away. The sun was setting and he didn’t feel like heading for the bunker so he drove the opposite way, heading for the outskirts of Kansas City.

He got a cheap motel room, not caring that it was one of the most rundown rooms he’d ever seen with no window, and where the wallpaper hung from the walls in large chunks and it smelled like sweat. Sam was hungry, so he searched on the phone where the closest bar and restaurant was; a burger or pizza would be fine, he didn’t care anymore, why would he? That, and he needed to be liquored up. Badly.

Sam walked along the road for ten minutes and found the place; motorcycles littered the outside. He sighed and walked inside, not caring that it seemed to be a place where a lot of bikers hung. It was as though he already knew, already had his evening planned. Eat, get drunk, scam people in pool, and then fight. This bar was perfect, and he might get beaten to a pulp, that would just be a bonus. Maybe Death himself would do him the honor again, and this time Dean would not be able to stop him.

Sam ate a burger by a table and sipped a large glass of whiskey, scowling to himself as the taste of the hamburger didn’t mix well with the strong liquor. Some of the patrons threw glances at him, not used to the fact that newcomers risked to enter. Sam didn’t know if they didn’t dare to confront him because of his stature or if they simply waited for someone else to deal with him, but they were all interested.

The hunter had moved to the bar desk and was on his eight glass of whiskey when his phone rung. He saw that the display said ‘Dean’ and he smirked contently as he downed his entire glass before answering.

“ _Where the fuck is my Baby?!_ ” Dean yelled in his ear and Sam rapped his knuckles against the desk of the bar to get the attention of the barkeep in the uncommonly quiet bar. He held up two fingers and pointed to the glass. The smoking woman gave him a raised eyebrow but said nothing as she poured him a double of the same whiskey that he’d drunk before.

“Sam? _Hello?! Sam!_ ” Dean yelled as Sam never answered and just watched as the woman left the bottle of whiskey by him.

“What?” the hunter asked calmly and massaged his eyebrows with one hand, knowing that if he didn’t sound angry Dean would get furious.

“Cas said you left several hours ago! _And my Baby’s gone!_ ”

“So?”

“ _You can’t take Baby!_ ”

“Clearly,” Sam agreed annoyed, trying to stay calm to the best of his abilities, but his anger at life’s unfairness was starting to slip through.

“ _What the fuck is wrong with you?!_ ” Dean yelled and Sam thought back to his thoughts in the forest, feeling a sting in his heart.

“A whole lot as it turns out,” Sam growled into the phone and downed the whiskey in one swoop before beginning to open the whiskey bottle.

“Are you drunk?” Dean suddenly asked, recognizing Sam’s drunken voice and grew angrier, “you’re not driving my car drunk!”

Sam realized that it was difficult to open the bottle with only one hand, so he ended the call and laid the phone on the counter before he opened the whiskey bottle and poured himself another large glass. His phone began to buzz again and he closed the bottle before he answered.

“ _Did you just fucking hang up?!_ ” Dean roared and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yes?” he responded indifferently and swayed the liquid in his glass, deciding that he was tired of hearing Dean, perfect fucking Dean, yell at him. Sam hung up and then tore out the battery from his phone, sighing as he stared at the pieces; now he needed to get a new phone. He’d wanted Dean to find him, so that they could fight.

“That bad, huh?” the barkeep wondered.

“You have no idea,” Sam muttered back and placed a wad of bills on the counter.

“Love troubles?” she probed further as she took the cash, counting it quickly and then handed some back.

“Life, in general, and my perfect fucking brother,” Sam confessed and drank the whiskey, feeling it burn on its way down.

“Ah, family troubles, always the hardest,” the woman with the cigarette in her mouth stated and then glanced around the bar where most people spoke in hushed tones, “can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

The barkeep walked away with the money and then returned with a glass of water. Sam looked to her and raised an eyebrow as she bent down.

“Sun has gone down several hours ago. They will be here soon,” she whispered and looked around as Sam pocketed his money, “they don’t like new people. I know that you’re out for blood, that’s the only reason you dared to enter, but you can’t win against these two.”

Sam looked around too, realizing that everyone seemed afraid rather than joyful or irritated; so that’s why the bar was so calm.

“Have _they_ ever killed anyone?” Sam wondered just as quiet.

“No, but they beat up every single guy in here,” the woman confessed and Sam nodded.

“Then I’m not afraid, I need a good beating,” Sam muttered and the woman shrugged.

“Just so that I have warned you,” she said and walked away.

Sam downed the glass of whiskey and pushed away the bottle that he’d paid for in full. He was drunk enough, and if he was going to fight he wanted to be at least somewhat steady. The hunter took the glass of water and felt his legs as he walked over to the only free pool table. He played with himself for a while, watching how most people were looking towards the doors with worry and wondered what could’ve made a gang of bikers so anxious.

* * *

It was almost an hour later when the door to the bar slammed open and two men came walking in. All the speech died and the bikers fastened their gaze down to the table, clearly afraid to even look at the two. Sam studied them, seeing that they weren’t tall and well-build; they looked rather ordinary, which meant that they might not even be human. What was he going to do if they were demons? Exorcise them? Sam smiled to himself; that might actually be fun. Or die, that could be nice too. Or… drink their blood. Yes, definitely. His body was screaming for demon blood.

“Time to pay up, and donate!” the slightly taller, brown-haired man called out, and a shiver seemed to go through the air while the blond walked up to the bar.

“Sweetie,” the blond man grinned and leaned on the counter as the woman fumbled with the cash register.

“Right away, sir,” the barkeep answered with a trembling voice and Sam heard the register beep as it refused to comply. Sam turned his back with a smile and leaned over the pool table. He took aim and then struck the ball. In the otherwise quiet environment the white cue ball seemed to make a ridiculously loud noise as it collided with another ball.

Both of the newcomers’ interests were drawn to the noise, wondering who dared to play pool while they were there to collect.

Sam walked around the table, taking a new aim and shot, pretending that he hadn’t noticed how tense the air was; he almost wanted to laugh at how disturbed everyone seemed.

“Fool!” someone close to him in the crowd hissed out and Sam shrugged it off as the two newcomers walked towards him. The hunter picked up the small, blue chalk and rubbed it on the tip of the pool stick, not wanting to be in a bad position if he was attacked.

“Well well well, fresh meat,” the brown-haired man grinned at Sam that just nodded a greeting to the leader.

“You wanna play?” Sam asked bored and looked down to the man, seeing that the blond guy was heading for him too.

“No, but I need to feed,” the guy stated and Sam looked unimpressed as he hissed and his mouth filled with teeth.

“And that’s supposed to scare me?” the hunter rolled his eyes and then sighed as he massaged his forehead with one hand. Both of the newcomers seemed surprised that Sam wasn’t reeling from terror. The hunter tilted his head and leaned on the pool stick.

“You two do realize that vampires aren’t scary? I actually hoped you were demons,” Sam muttered and saw how the vampires exchanged a look, realizing that they were talking to a hunter and smelled that he wasn’t afraid of them.

“We live off of human blood,” the blond guy grinned, trying to intimidate the hunter.

“I’m going to venture a guess,” Sam began and placed the pool stick on the pool table, “that you steal money and feed on everyone here. That way you’re not leaving any bodies behind. It’s actually rather clever.”

“It is, isn’t it?” the brown-haired leader folded his arms and grinned.

“What now?” Sam wondered, thinking that they could either leave him out of fear for him, or they were heading towards an inevitable fight.

“We fight, hunter,” the brown-haired guy declared, “and if you do well enough we’ll turn you to the very thing you hunt.”

“Sure, anything to piss my brother off,” Sam confessed, seemingly not caring that he was being threatened, “because the ingredients to the vampire cure are expensive, and I’m just a waste of space. One on one, or are you two cowards that attack in group?” the hunter wondered, seeing that the both of them had grown prepared to attack him together.

“Who cares,” the leader growled and lunged. Sam grabbed the chair behind him and swung it around with his right arm, hitting the creature hard enough that he crashed into a round table, breaking it. The hunter immediately swung his left, hitting the blond in his jaw. People around them got up and moved away from the fight, gathering along the walls, tense to see who would win. The blond staggered a bit, but then hissed and threw a glance to his leader that groaned and got up, but it was all the distraction Sam needed. With a hard uppercut, Sam watched as the vampire’s teeth sliced thought his lips and cracked against each other. The blond stumbled and then went down with a muffled groan, making gasps go around the audience.

“Hunter!” the leader had blood dripping from his forehead and swayed a bit as he got up. The brown-haired vampire touched his head, seemingly stabilizing his senses.

“Come on!” Sam roared, feeling anger building in his veins. He couldn’t lose. These were just inexperienced vampires that used their teeth and strength as a fear tactic to subjugate their victims.

The vampire growled and sent a glance to his fallen brother, making sure to keep an eye on the human. The blond was going to be fine, but the hunter clearly was as dangerous as the older vampires had told him. Watch out for hunters; they’re deadly, they had said. He had not listened.

Sam watched and waited, his entire body screaming with satisfaction and thrill. The vampire hissed at him and he saw how its nails grew longer and sharper before he attacked. Sam dodged the clawed hand that caused a small rip in his shirt. Another swing came and Sam folded his right knee, dodging and swung his left leg out, making the guy fall over.

The brown-haired vampire quickly got up, but Sam was on him with a hard right. The vampire managed to pull his face away, but then saw his opening. The teeth grew out again and he attacked, hoping to bite the hunter in his exposed neck. Sam saw the movement, but even though it looked like an opening, it was everything but. Sam swung back his upper body, causing his right elbow to collide with the vampire’s eye socket. The vampire crashed once more to the ground, but rolled to get away from the chair that was swung at him, breaking on the floor just where he’d been moments before.

The blond vampire was waking up, wincing and rolling on the ground, trying to open his mouth as the brown-haired vampire quickly got up from the floor, his breath coming out in ragged puffs while Sam didn’t even seem affected by the fight. The vampire and the hunter circled each other, waiting for an attack. The leader was a lot more careful now, making small outbursts with his clawed hands before retreating and circling again.

“Come on!” Sam snarled in an angry roar, knowing that he needed to take out the leader before the second vampire got back to the fight, “you’re the one who wanted a fight! Then fight!”

“Screw you!” the vampire bit back and Sam pretended to get distracted by walking into the pool table. The leader saw his chance and attacked, only to be struck hard with the pool stick Sam had used before, breaking the stick. He stumbled, almost losing his balance, and Sam watched how sharp the end he was holding in had become after it broke. He knew that a wooden stake wasn’t going to work, but his entire body screamed for him to try. The vampire turned to him and Sam shot forward, impaling the creature right through his heart. The leader screamed from the pain and clawed at the pool stick, making it break off inside him.

“You fucking bastard!” the vampire yelled and breathed heavily as he held his hands protectively over his heart and backed away from the advancing hunter that still had part of the bloody pool stick in his hands.

“I know it won’t kill you, but I figured that it would hurt,” Sam murmured menacingly, hearing quick steps behind him. Sam spun around, but was tackled to the floor, making chairs tumble over and tables move. The blond had managed to get his ripped mouth open, blood rained over Sam’s shirt and he was cautious to not get it in his mouth as they struggled against each other. The vampire focused all of his power to bite the hunter, but Sam’s strong hands were on his neck, making him unable to breathe. Sam rolled them around, quickly pulling his right from the vampire’s neck and struck his head. For every strike he could feel a darkness humming inside him; he thirsted for death and demon’s blood. His mouth watered at the thought of demons and he quietly wondered if he should get someone summon one for him.

“Fucker!” the brown-haired leader threw himself over the hunter, seeing that his pack member had fainted, but the hunter just kept going at him, hitting him with all his strength. Sam felt his head strike the floor, but ignored it. Claws suddenly buried into his chest, ripping him open, but he only grunted before taking a hard grip into the small piece of the pool stick that still poked out of the vampire.

The leader screamed from pain and rolled off trying to get away, but Sam jumped on top of his back and then gripped hard into his hair before proceeding to slam his head into the floor, over and over again, until blood started to splatter. Sam acted like a machine, using all of his strength to hurt the vampire.

Sam got off the creature, huffing and felt his body reel from satisfaction. The vampire on the floor sobbed and winced, having peed himself sometime during the abuse of his head. He carefully looked up and saw Sam loom over him.

“Please! Please! We’ll do whatever you want!” the leader trembled with his hands over his sore head and Sam wondered if he actually could beat a vampire to death, now was his chance to try, but he had witnesses.

“You’re going to take your pack member and you’re going to leave and never come back,” Sam stated loudly, seeing the vampire twitch as the sound of his voice.

“Anything!” the leader sobbed.

“And if you come back, I’ll find you and rip off your fucking head with my bare hands,” Sam growled and watched as the vampire began to crawl over to his fallen brother. “ _Did you hear me?!_ ”

“Yes!” the vampire flinched, “yes! You’ll kill us!” the leader groaned as he pulled up his friend and then glanced to Sam with a swollen eye and blood dripping down his entire face. The two slowly staggered their way out the bar and Sam looked around.

“ _What?!_ Never seen a vampire get their ass kicked by a human?” the hunter growled and someone in the audience began to clap their hands. The clapping spread, and Sam blinked as the people cheered loudly. Someone patted him on his shoulder, another brought him his whiskey and poured him a glass, someone helped him out of his shirt, people begun to clean blood from the floor and the barkeep treated his wounds. Sam got to hear that they had been the feeding stock of those vampires for over half a year. They had even shot and stabbed the vampires, but had no idea what they could do to get rid of them.

Sam was treated like a hero for the first time in his life; he was fed hamburgers and treated to alcohol. He wore his bloodied shirt with pride and got to know the bikers well, someone even gave him a vest with different patches and he was considered one of them. The bar became energetic and alive. Sam played pool with the people and laughed at their jokes. The TV came on and people started to watch a game.

The clock had just reached midnight when the doors slammed open and the entire place quieted down. There was still blood visible on the floor and Sam turned to see his brother stand in the doorway, livid.

“ _Where the hell is my brother?!_ ” Dean yelled, knowing that the biker bar was where the tracking program had pinged Sam last.


	28. Damage Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is drunk. Sam and Dean bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: 2018-09-07  
> Words: 5 100

“Dean!” Sam greeted with a grin, having gotten over the depressive spike with the help of the alcohol. Hearing his brother’s voice caused Dean to go into a rage, but as he saw the blood on Sam’s torn shirt his anger vanished and turned to worry.

“ _What the hell happened to you?!_ ” Dean yelled half-angry, half-worried and saw that Sam seemed fine, well, at least he was standing upright… somewhat upright.

“Same old, same old,” Sam chuckled and raised his bottle, “to my brother, Dean!”

“To Dean!” everyone yelled in unison and drank. Dean hesitated; he wanted to pull his drunk brother out of there, but the bikers seemed to be fond of him, and if Sam didn’t come willingly he might end up in a losing fight.

“Hey! You missed dinner! We were worried!” Dean tried and walked closer, trying to be as little intimidating as possible as he looked around.

“Dean! Have a beer!” Sam grinned and turned to the bar, “Sarah! A beer for my brother!”

“Of course, Sam!” the woman behind the bar opened a beer and placed it on the counter. A man passed it along to the next, and he in turn passed it to a woman, who passed it to a man and then to Dean. Knowing that he couldn’t refuse, he thanked the man and held his beer into the air as everyone else cheered.

Dean took a swipe of the beer, wondering what the hell his brother had done to make all the bikers so damn happy, and walked up to the younger hunter.

“Sam?” he said and his brother turned around, grinning and swaying, “whose blood is that?”

Sam looked down to his shirt, as if seeing it for the first time and then shrugged indifferently.

“I don’t know,” Sam hummed and drank from his beer bottle, making Dean stare at him, “but I think a little of it is mine.”

“Here, let me check you,” Dean murmured and reached out for Sam’s shirt.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Sam made a gesture to the bar, “Sarah patched me up! She was a nurse before.”

“Who did this to you?” Dean continued to question.

“Oh, the vampires!” Sam grinned and then almost fell over, but Dean steadied him.

“What vampires? Were you hunting vampires on your own?” the older Winchester hissed, afraid that someone was going to hear him.

“Sam, the vampire slayer!” someone raised his glass and Sam grinned drunkenly as the others cheered again. Sam clapped his hands and shouted as Dean stared around the bar, seeing the blood on the floor, some broken chairs, but no bodies.

“Come on, Sam,” Dean pulled a bit in his brother’s arm, seeing his bruised knuckles as he took the beer bottle and placed it on a table behind him, “Cas is waiting.”

“Okay… Hey, guys!” Sam called out and Dean tried hushing him, but everyone turned around, “I have to go now! I had fun! Take care! Stay safe!”

“Good luck, Sam!”

“Keep kicking vampire-butt!”

“Have a nice night!”         

“Keep in touch!”

 “Stay safe!”

“Kill the vampires!”

“Bye, Sam!”

“Call sometime!”

Everyone greeted the hunter and Sam waved happily as Dean maneuvered his brother out and into the cooling night. The fake smile that Dean had had plastered on his face vanished and the older hunter looked around the parking lot.

“Where the fuck is my Baby?” he muttered and forced Sam into the back seat of the car. Castiel that sat in the passenger seat turned around and stared at Sam’s torn and bloodied shirt.

“Hey, Cas!” Sam happily greeted as the angel took deep, calm breaths, trying to get a fix on if the hunter was injured, but he sensed a bit of Sam’s blood amongst the vampire blood.

“Are you injured?” Castiel wondered and looked to the shirt, seeing white bandages through the open parts.

“Only scratches,” Sam smiled and Dean got into the front seat.

“Where’d you park?” Dean questioned annoyed as he looked to his drunk brother.

“At the motel,” Sam pointed along the road and Dean drove out from the side of the street. It took a few minutes until they turned in at the motel and Dean got out of the car, followed by a drowsy Sam. Dean checked the Impala so that it didn’t have any scratches. Happy with the result, he walked up to Sam, seeing that he had trouble unlocking the door to his room.

Dean glared at his brother as he managed to open the door and as he walked inside. Sam pulled out the emergency bag from underneath the bed and dug around in it, finding the key to the Impala. The younger hunter got up and stared at the key, knowing that it was the only reason Dean and Castiel were standing in the tiny motel room with him. Sam felt discarded, but he understood; he’d disappointed them one time too many. He gave the key to his brother and then walked up to the bed, getting into it.

“You’re not coming?” Dean wondered and watched Sam shrug.

“You have what you wanted, you can go now,” Sam declared, wanting do drive his brother and Castiel away, make them hate him; that way neither of them was going to be tainted by him, or die because of him.

“What happened?” Dean questioned and took a harder grip around the key, knowing that Sam was acting out for some reason, and it was pissing Dean off, but he knew that the only way to get to Sam was through calmness and patience.

“Vampires showed up, threatened me. I kicked their asses, the end,” Sam muttered with his back towards his brother and Dean sighed.

“Yea, I get that that’s what happened at the bar, but what happened before that?” the older Winchester waited, but received no answer for a few seconds.

“Just go,” Sam mumbled and Dean looked around the room; it wasn’t even up to his own standard, and he was aware that Sam had an even higher standard than himself. His brother was punishing himself for some reason.

“Fine, be like that,” Dean spat and turned around, only to come face to face with the angel, making the Winchester take a step back. Castiel tilted his head and then sent a glance to Sam, but didn’t move out of the way.

“Get out, Cas!” Dean commanded and the angel walked out of the room followed by the older brother. Sam twitched when the door closed harshly, almost shaking the room and he was left alone. Of course, Castiel had said nothing. Of course, Castiel followed Dean’s order. Of course, they left. Of course, he was alone. He still had the emergency bag beside his bed though, at least that was something. Tears rolled down Sam’s face and he wished he had died at the bar, fighting those vampires, feeling alive. At least Death looked forward to collecting him even though he was damaged.

Sam’s shoulders shook as he tried to force himself to be quiet; he didn’t want to be Lucifer’s disgusting fucking vessel. Lucifer’s toy. Lucifer’s little plaything. Sam could remember everything that the archangel had done to him in the cage, and it just made him feel even filthier. He was a little doll with strings attached and Lucifer had been making him run around in circles, and now he was broken, discarded, abandoned. Humanity hated him.

Sam threw his arms around himself and hugged himself, knowing that he deserved to be deserted, because he had bent to Lucifer’s will, Lucifer’s words and his promises. He’d known everything had been lies from the start, but he’d needed those, just like he’d needed Ruby’s words and the power of the demon blood. The hunger for demon blood drove him insane, reminding him how broken he really was; no human should ache with the desire to drink blood. Warm, metallic, thick, sweet, and powerful, oh, so powerful.

Sam felt his mouth water at the thought of the heavy liquid and he sobbed to himself, feeling dirty from his thoughts and feelings. He no longer could hold it in and as he shook with pain and grief, wailing quietly into the pillow and trying to hug himself. Fuck, he needed that demon blood. Not caring where the pillow had been, Sam bit into it, trying to hold himself from getting up to hunt demons for their warm, mouthwatering blood.

* * *

Dean was angry that Sam had forced him to drive out only to find him partying with some biker gang in some city four hours away. Dean gritted his teeth as he made his way out of the city; he knew that what he was doing was wrong. Everything in his body screamed that he was making the wrong decision; it felt like one of those decisions that could affect the future and he felt as though he might never see his brother again, but he had left the car for Sam. He would survive on his own for _one_ _night_. Dean growled to himself, feeling Castiel’s heavy presence beside himself. Feeling Castiel judging him for his actions, despite his complete silence.

“ _Shut up! For fucks sake!_ ” Dean suddenly yelled at the angel, making Castiel look at him wide-eyed and shocked. Dean pushed down the brake pedal, causing the car to decelerate forcefully and screech to a halt before he turned around. Castiel smiled a bit, knowing that the Righteous Man always knew what was right.

* * *

Dean parked the Impala outside the motel, muttering to himself about stupid brothers and got out. He sighed as he quietly opened the door, thinking that he was going to find his brother where he’d seen him last; in the bed. The room was empty. Dean blinked against the darkness and heard that the shower was running. With another heavy sigh he walked inside the room, followed by Castiel, and saw that the door to the bathroom was ajar, but it was dark inside.

For a second, Dean hesitated, because his mind and his heart were arguing; his heart wanted to throw the door open and run into the bathroom, knowing that something was wrong, while his mind told him that Sam might be naked and not pleased about it. Dean stood still, realizing the he could hear Sam’s voice from the dark bathroom.

“So filthy, so filthy, so filthy,” the words repeated, barely a whisper over the sound of the shower, and Dean knew that he didn’t have a choice. Sam was not himself right now.

“Sammy?” Dean whispered and opened the door to the sinister area, letting his hand roam the wall where the switch logically should be, afraid of what he was going to see.

“So filthy, so filthy, so filthy,” Sam muttered to himself like a mantra, barely hanging on to his mind, but he needed to say it; if he didn’t he would get worse, if he didn’t he would hunt demons. Dean flicked the switch and swallowed as he saw his brother sitting on the floor of the shower completely clothed, arms around his legs and forehead resting on his knees as he rocked back and forth, muttering to himself as the water sprayed on him. Dean clenched his teeth, knowing that he shouldn’t have left in the first place; if he’d just waited patiently Sam would’ve told him what was wrong.

“C’mere,” Dean reached into the shower, but pulled back once the water struck him; it was ice cold. The hunter turned off the shower and Sam froze in his movement.

“Come on, big guy,” the older of the brothers reached down around Sam’s arms, shivering at how cold he was and pulled him up.

“Dean,” Sam wailed and Dean thought that he’d never heard his brother that broken.

“What’s wrong?” Dean murmured as Sam’s arms closed around his neck and he could feel warm tears roll down his chest inside his clothes.

“I’m filthy,” Sam cried into his shirt.

“Of course, you just beat the snot out of a couple of vampires,” Dean tried to calm Sam down, but Sam just shook his head.

“No, I’m filthy,” Sam’s sobs got worse and Dean did his best to just hold his brother, “Lucifer…” Dean held his brother hard as he heard the name of the archangel, and felt how his anger increased as Sam shook, barely able to hold himself upright. That fucking archangel. Dean had no idea of what Lucifer had done to Sam, but he knew that it was all Lucifer’s fault. Sam’s broken state was _all_ Lucifer.

“Filthy…” Sam sniveled and Dean struggled to get the large hunter out of the tiny bathroom. Castiel tilted his head as he saw the drenched human, but then picked up the cover from the bed as he saw that Dean was moving towards it. Dean sat down heavily, and Sam clung to him, shivering from cold and cried relentlessly into Dean’s shoulder. Castiel stayed silent as he placed the cover around the two brothers, pulling it tight and felt warm when Dean smiled gratefully at him.

“I don’t-, I don’t-,” Sam whimpered and felt Dean caress his back.

“It’s okay, Sam, you’re safe. He can’t get to you,” Dean mumbled reassuringly.

“I don’t-, I don’t-,” Sam stammered and took an even harder grip into his brother, forcing his words out through the sobs, “I don’t want to be Lucifer’s true vessel.”

“No shit, no one wants to be a meat puppet to him,” Dean nodded and stroke Sam’s hair, “the bastard is never getting his hands on you.”

“So filthy,” Sam wept and gritted his teeth so hard they hurt, “my soul, so filthy, ruined.”

Dean threw a glance to Castiel, seeing that the angel was standing with a tilted head.

“We’re gonna fight through it, Sammy, like you fought those fangbangers,” Dean whispered and hoped that the endless stream of tears was going to stop soon, but Sam might not be in the right state of mind. A thought made its way into the hunter’s mind, it was an old idea, but it was rejuvenated by Sam’s broken state. Kill Lucifer. Dean felt the mark on his arm burn as his entire body was filled with bloodthirst.

Sam mumbled into Dean’s neck, even though Dean only caught a few words here and there he could still hear that Sam was repeating the words filthy and soul, and the sentence that he didn’t want to be Lucifer’s vessel. There was also something about demon blood, and hell, antichrist and Death, that Dean didn’t manage to make out.

“You’re not disgusting…” Dean tried and tried to calm Sam down, but the hunter just shivered.

“I want demon blood!” Sam almost yelled and choked on air as he coughed, “I fucking want it! So fucking much!”

“Oh, yea, that’s pretty disgusting,” Dean agreed as Sam continued to sob, but never moved away.

“Angels hate me,” Sam wept and Dean thought that he was just saying things for the hell of it.

“Who cares? They’re assholes…”

“Angels hate me. I’m an abomination,” Sam gasped for air through the sobs, and Castiel looked away, guilty, knowing that he was the one to tell Sam that.

The hunter soon calmed down, only weeping quietly and shaking. Dean half-carried him outside and then stuffed him into the backseat of the Impala, before he went to return the key to Sam’s room.

“Cas,” Dean said and threw the key to the other car, expecting the angel to catch it, but it only hit him in the chest and dropped to the ground.

“Take the other car,” Dean stated and the angel picked up the keys as the hunter headed for the impala.

“Okay,” Castiel walked over to the other car and watched as Dean got into the Impala.

* * *

The car ride was calm, as Sam slept in the back seat, exhausted from his feelings and wasted from the alcohol and Dean watched over him, knowing that Sam’s broken mind was all Lucifer’s fault. From time to time, Sam winced in his sleep and a stray tear fell from his closed eyelids, dreaming of how Lucifer laughed at him for thinking that Gabriel liked him, for his foolishness, for his stupidity. Why would _any_ angel ever want Sam? Boy King of Hell.

* * *

It was four hours later when Dean woke Sam up and half-carried him into the bunker. He redressed him and tucked in his brother on the couch in the library underneath his blanket, seeing dried tears on Sam’s cheeks.

“Lucifer…” Sam winced in his sleep and Dean’s eyes grew angry, remembering how sad Sam had looked before he threw himself into the cage, thinking that he would never see light again, but he did it to save the world.

As Dean parked the car inside the garage, Castiel came driving and parked. He waited until the angel got out and then glared.

“You said that Sam was speaking with Gabriel, and then walked down the stairs,” Dean began and Castiel swallowed, thinking that he might’ve done something wrong.

“Yes,” the angel replied, voice strong and confident.

“How do I kill an archangel? Is the first blade enough?” Dean then wondered and Castiel grew alarmed, thinking that Dean was talking about Gabriel.

“I understand that you are upset, but killing Gabriel won’t solve it,” the dark-haired angel stated and saw how the human rolled his eyes.

“I’m not talking about Gabriel, I’m talking about Lucifer,” he stated and folded his arms, “I want to kill Lucifer.”

Castiel nodded.

“You kill an archangel with an archangel blade, but before that you would have to open the cage,” the angel explained concerned.

“Is there no way to blast the cage and kill him?”

“Not that I know of, no,” Castiel confessed and Dean sighed.

“We’ll think about it,” the hunter stated and walked up the stairs, wondering what Gabriel had said that made Sam spiral so out of control, but maybe it had just been the last drop, followed by several ones of alcohol.

* * *

Gabriel and Dionysus got out of the car, just as the sun was about to rise and saw how Mateo opened the door, expecting them. The Greek god approached the man and gave him a hug as Gabriel opened the door to the back seat and pushed on the sleeping vessel, seeing how Daniel slowly woke up.

“What?” the psychologist murmured confused and saw the familiar face of Loki. Daniel got a distant look in his face and then Gabriel watched as Seraphiel’s halo seemed to intensify, not that anyone but angels could see it.

“Hello, Seraphiel,” Gabriel grinned, making the seraph smile.

“Hello, Loki, I had a wonderful time with you, but I wasn’t able to handle all those emotions and sensations. I had to put Daniel in charge. You see, angelic emotion is like a large inland lake. The wind cruises the surface to gentle waves. Sure, there can be storms, but human emotion is like the deep sea; there can be rouge waves and lightning storms and cyclones,” Seraphiel explained and Gabriel nodded understandingly, knowing how overwhelming human emotion could be to an angel that had never had a vessel before.

“Did you see what I did to Daniel?” Gabriel questioned curiously and Seraphiel nodded before he held up the shirt with his left hand and studied the two markings on his hip.

“What do the symbols mean?” the seraph wondered and Gabriel reached in and placed a hand on his own mark, sending a wave of pleasure through Seraphiel, making the angel gasp.

“It’s the possessive mark of a god; if you’re harmed I can sense it and come and help,” Gabriel explained and then grinned, “but if we have sex I can use it to give you heights we can’t achieve on natural ways.”

“I like it, and so do Daniel,” Seraphiel stated and removed the car belt as he looked around, “where are we?”

“We’re going to visit Ceres, she’s _really_ afraid of angels, so don’t make fast movements when we get to her, she might accidently harm you if you do,” Gabriel informed and Seraphiel nodded as Gabriel moved to let him get out of the car. The angel stretched as he got out, but then smiled as Dionysus and Mateo approached him.

“Loki, it’s a pleasure to meet you again,” Mateo smiled and shook Gabriel’s hand before he turned to Seraphiel, “and I’m guessing that you are the angel.”

“I am,” Seraphiel stated with dignity, reverting back to how he’s supposed to act.

“Relax, Seraphiel,” Dionysus grinned, seeing the angel’s tense posture, and walked up to him. The seraph blinked confused as Dionysus opened up his shirt and then let him pull it off.

“Show Mateo your wings!” the Greek god playfully ran a hand down Seraphiel’s back and the angel reached one pair of his wings through the invisible dimension, making them seemingly burst from his back in a flurry of feathers, causing Mateo to take a step back and gape at the enormous wings that seemed to shine all on their own.

“Shall we go?” Gabriel clapped his hands together and Mateo threw him a glance.

“Ah, absolutely,” the human stammered and turned away from the pagans to show the way.

* * *

As they got to the goddess’ temple, they found her sitting on a marble stone outside it, waiting for them.

“You’re late,” Ceres called out and got up, staring at the slightly glowing wings of the angel, surprised that she could see them.

“Sorry,” Dionysus said without looking the least bit regretful and gave the goddess a hug.

“How’s the leg? Have you healed yet?” the god of wine continued and made the goddess pull up the dress to show her thigh.

“My wound is gone, but not thanks to myself,” Ceres turned to Gabriel, “Loki has some secrets.”

“Oh? Like always then,” Dionysus turned to his old lover and the trickster scowled at the goddess.

“Loki healed me, using their power,” Ceres confessed and made Dionysus stare wide-eyed at him while Gabriel folded his arms and pouted, now knowing only one way to explain it without confessing to what he was.

“Well, I can only use their power because of my second secret,” Gabriel lied and eyed everyone around himself, “now, if you want to know _that_ secret you have to promise not to tell anyone about it.”

“No way,” Ceres gasped with a hand over her mouth, now knowing what her fellow pagan was pregnant with, “I promise to not speak of it.”

“I promise,” everyone else echoed and Gabriel nodded to Ceres to let her know that she could reveal the secret.

“Loki is pregnant again,” Ceres smiled and made Dionysus grin while the seraph and the human looked shocked.

“What?” Mateo said and looked Gabriel over, “how can you be pregnant? Aren’t you a man?”

“I’m a _god_ ,” Gabriel stated with a huff and eyed the human, “I’m not limited by you mortals’ perceptions of male and female.”

“I am terribly sorry for assuming such a thing,” Mateo bowed deeply to the clearly offended god, “of course you can do anything.”

Mateo’s apology made Gabriel smile and then gestured to Ceres.

“Come on, guess what I’m bearing. You know what I’m pregnant with, don’t you?” the trickster grinned at the goddess and Ceres folded her arms over her chest with a smirk.

“Well, assuming that you can’t actually use celestial powers and knowing you, Loki, it’s probably an angel,” Ceres guessed and watched as Gabriel clapped his hands.

“Lo!” Dionysus walked up to the trickster and gave him a hug, “you can’t tell anybody! The others would renounce you!”

“I know, but I gave my word that I would bear this angel,” Gabriel smiled and caressed Dionysus hair behind his ears.

“You gave your word?” Dionysus stared surprised and Seraphiel approached with a scowl on his face.

“You’re carrying a Nephilim?” the seraph wondered and Gabriel shook his head.

“No, it’s an angel, purebred angel. Either a warden or a seraph,” Gabriel grinned and turned away from the group. With an intense flash of light, Gabriel held into the large, blue egg. He turned around with the glowing item in his hands and then held it away as Seraphiel reached out.

“Don’t think that I don’t know what you can do!” Gabriel growled, protective of the egg as Seraphiel stared in awe.

“I’m not going to hurt it,” he promised and reached out again, only for Gabriel to take a step back.

“Swear it,” Gabriel demanded and the angel nodded.

“I swear.”

“Swear it on your Father’s name!” Gabriel demanded despite knowing that Seraphiel’s word could be trusted.

“I swear, _quooiape de Elo_ , (by the name of God)” Seraphiel swore and his eyes glowed as he gave his word. Gabriel nodded, now happy, and held out the egg to the angel. Seraphiel gasped as he took it in his hands and felt his eyes fill with tears of wonder.

“It truly is an angel egg,” Seraphiel slowly got down on his knees and then hugged the egg to his body, remembering when he had been little and the archangels had taught him how to walk, talk and fly. He remembered sleeping in a large nest with other eggs and crunched his eyebrows together as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Thank you, Loki,” Seraphiel caressed the egg, sensing the grace that was forming within the shell, “thank you again. Thank you for the dimension on my back and thank you for allowing me to see this miracle.”

“Of course,” Gabriel grinned and reached out for the egg. Seeing the action, Seraphiel placed his forehead to the egg and murmured a blessing, sending some of his power to the egg for it to feed on. Gabriel felt his chest swell with affection as he heard the blessing and knew that if he ever got into trouble, Seraphiel might be there for him. Seraphiel might help him carry the egg, like a mate, but Gabriel didn’t need help, even if the baby angel was a seraph. Gabriel as an archangel had enough grace to carry a seraph on his own, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t daydream about standing chest to chest with another angel, wings around each other and then using the muscles in his pouch to push the egg to his mate. It would’ve been truly a wonderous feeling. Gabriel craved love. Craved it like a man dying from thirst craved water, but he rarely, if ever, gave into it. Love was dangerous.

“Okay, Loki,” Ceres nodded as the archangel turned away from the group, “prove that the temple is secure.”

“One moment,” Gabriel called out and flashed in bright light as he took the egg inside himself again. He shivered pleasantly and then turned towards Seraphiel with a mischievous grin. The seraph took a step back as the pagan approached and placed a hand on the middle of his chest, pushing on it gently.

“Move back,” Gabriel commanded and felt his inner angel and pagan buzz with satisfaction as Seraphiel obeyed without questioning, backing towards the temple. For every step that Seraphiel took backwards, Gabriel walked forward, steering the angel towards the opened door.

The other pagans watched interested at what Gabriel was doing. Seraphiel’s back touched the invisible shield and he stopped.

“I commanded you to move back!” Gabriel stated loudly, knowing what would happen if the angel tried to force his way through the barrier and Seraphiel gave him an uncertain look.

“I cannot.”

“Move back!”

“The temple is protected,” Seraphiel specified and Gabriel leaned close to his face.

“I, your god and master, said: _Move. Back._ ” the archangel wondered if the seraph would disobey, but he didn’t have to wonder long before Seraphiel’s eyes hardened and he took a step back, forcing himself halfway through the magical barrier.

As if sucked by a magnet, Seraphiel’s wings were pulled out and caught in the barrier, sending blue, electric sparks over the wings and the surrounding building. Seraphiel closed his eyes and gritted his teeth from pain, but refused to scream, despite feeling how the barrier was quickly draining him of power.

“Ascha (good),” Gabriel whispered into the Seraphiel’s ear and sent a wave of silvery pagan power over him, causing the wall to release the angel into his embrace. Seraphiel panted and trembled from the strain and Gabriel lowered him to the ground beside the barrier.

“Ascha (good),” the archangel whispered again and sat down on his knees beside the angel, “irgil ascha (very good).”

“Ascha,” Seraphiel murmured back in Enochian and his panting eased as Gabriel caressed the seraph’s cheek. Not caring about what Ceres’ worshipper was going to think, Gabriel leaned down and gently kissed the angel’s lips.

“Loki, en Elo (Loki, my god),” Seraphiel whispered when the kiss ended, making Gabriel’s pagan nature brim with pride.

“Ho, aaan Seraphiel, elasa coisa ascha (True, angel Seraphiel, you did good),” Gabriel grinned and moved his hand from the angel’s cheek to his hip where Gabriel had left Loki’s mark. Knowing that he couldn’t use his celestial powers to refuel the angel without revealing that he was Archangel Gabriel he did the next best thing and shot his pagan powers into Seraphiel. Gabriel felt the uncomfortable drain as silvery lightning travelled over his old friend’s body.

“Lo-, gah! Lo-, Loki!” Seraphiel screamed, his body arching with pleasure.

Mateo made a disturbed move towards the angel whose wings twisted and folded, but Dionysus grabbed into his shirt and shook his head, making Mateo give him a pleading look to do something.

Gabriel released the mark, feeling his sore hand and his heart burn; he had drained himself almost dry so that his powers could fuel Seraphiel’s.

“Ah, en Elo! (my god!)” Seraphiel gasped and relaxed his body, causing his wings to collapse on the ground like a feathery blanket, “en elo…”

“Please don’t hurt him anymore, Loki, I beg of you,” Mateo pleaded and made all of the pagans smirk with amusement.

“Don’t worry, Mateo,” Dionysus grinned as Gabriel caressed the seraph’s chest, “Seraphiel is not in pain.”

“But-, but he-,” Mateo began and Dionysus pointed to the two celestials behind the human.

“Pain can look and sound very similar to pleasure,” the Greek god of madness explained, and Mateo turned around to see Seraphiel sitting up with his arms around Gabriel’s neck, kissing him deeply.

“P-, p-, pleasure?” Mateo gaped as Seraphiel’s hungry green eyes opened and the human watched how subservient and affectionate the angel kissed Loki’s mouth and neck. Gabriel smiled tenderly at the angel and caressed his hair, letting Seraphiel worship him without hurry.


	29. Reunited and Reconciled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is a creep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: 2018-09-14  
> Words: 4 500

Two days later, Gabriel drove the car into the bunker and then decided to make an entrance. He spread his wings and took flight.

“Waddap bitches?” Gabriel greeted as he landed sitting on top of a bookshelf in the library, choosing that spot because he had a difficulty sensing and seeing both Sam and Dean’s souls.

“Gabriel,” Castiel greeted without emotion, sitting in the couch and watching TV. The archangel looked around with a bored expression, none of the brothers were there in the library.

“Anything fun happened while I was gone?” he wondered and jumped down to the floor.

“Not specifically fun, no,” Castiel informed and let Gabriel know that _something_ had happened, even if it wasn’t fun.

“Okay, so what happened?” Gabriel wondered as he leaped over the back of the couch and then looked to his brother as he landed.

“From what I understood of it; Sam had a mental breakdown due to Lucifer’s torture, stole the Impala, beat some vampires nearly to death with his fists, partied with some morally questionable people and then tried to freeze himself to death in the shower. Dean and I then came back to him and Sam cried himself to sleep. Dean then decided that he wanted to open the cage and kill Lucifer,” Castiel informed in a monotone tone, trying to not show how upset he was from the fact that Sam was in such distress because of being an abomination; it wasn’t his fault after all.

“Woow, slow down a notch,” Gabriel instructed, making the younger angel turn to him, “take everything from the beginning; what happened that day or night, exactly?”

“Dean woke up at five and made some coffee, before retreating to his room. Sam showed up at seven and had bacon and eggs for breakfast, and a cup of coffee. He watched the news, and then sat by the table, looking for a case. Sam thought that something might have happened to you, since you never called. Sam was then angry after your phone call, and called you disgusting, and some other things that I’d rather not repeat,” Castiel informed and made the archangel chuckle.

“He went down the stairs. Dean came up and ate breakfast around twelve, before sitting by the couch and cleaned most of his weapons for six hours. Dean asked where Sam was, and who was making dinner. Dean then walked down with the weapons and then came running up the stairs, upset, because the Impala was gone. Dean started the tracking program and called Sam, and yelled at him. Sam hung up on him. Dean called again. Sam hung up again, and then Dean called again, but no signals went through. Dean called Sam a Son-of-a-Bitch, and then told me ‘Cas come on’.”

“Dean and I then went to Kansas City, where Sam was drinking with a biker gang. Apparently, he’d beaten some vampires nearly to death with his bare hands. The vampires had been feeding on the gang for six months. Dean and I drove Sam to his motel room, got the Impala and left. After being on the road for ten minutes, Dean swore and turned around to get Sam. Sam was in the shower with his clothes on, sitting on the floor, whispering that he was filthy. Dean picked him up and he started crying. To my understanding so was he in such anguish because he was Lucifer’s true vessel, and because Lucifer had defiled his soul and Azazel had given him demon’s blood as a baby. He was upset because angels regard him as a filthy abomination. He did not wish to be an Abomination, nor Boy King of Hell, nor Antichrist. He felt that he was disgusting because he wanted to drink demon’s blood; I’m guessing the cravings come and go. Dean carried him into the Impala and he then fell asleep. We then drove here. Sam has been locked in his room for the past days. I believe that he’s ashamed of what happened. Dean have brought him food, but he doesn’t eat much.”

Gabriel sat quiet during the entire speech and then got up, realizing that no one had told Sam the truth about vessels. He held up his hand as he got to Sam’s door and then willed a plate of meat and potatoes into it with a bit of vegetables. Gabriel quietly opened the door and watched as Sam pulled the covers over his head, lying with his back towards Gabriel as he entered.

“Go away, Dean, I’m not hungry,” Sam muttered weakly from underneath the covers as he smelled the food. Gabriel quietly walked over to the desk and placed down the plate before he looked to the bed, wondering if he should sit down. Without saying a word, Gabriel lifted the cover, feeling Sam struggle against him and then crawled into the bed.

“Dean!” Sam gasped, but then looked down, seeing Gabriel lying on his stomach with a concerned expression.

“Gabriel!” the hunter called out and looked away with a blush, realizing that Gabriel knew about what had happened, but Sam begged that he didn’t know everything.

“I heard you were upset…” Gabriel began and Sam refused to look at him, hearing his concern in his voice, “I think that it’s time to tell you something, because apparently no one else has told you.”

“What?” Sam quietly asked and studied the wallpaper beside his bed.

“You’re not Lucifer’s true vessel…” Gabriel stated and felt how Sam tensed. The hunter looked down to the golden eyes of the archangel and stared.

“What?”

“You’re not Lucifer’s true vessel…” Gabriel repeated, knowing that the human needed to hear it in a sincere voice.

“But-, but-, but everyone-,” Sam stuttered and looked to the ceiling.

“There is no such thing as a _true vessel_ ,” Gabriel began and the hunter quieted down before returning his attention to the archangel.

“But-, everyone-,”

“No such thing,” Gabriel sat up on top of the hunter, leaning with his hands on Sam’s chest, “you are the vessel of an archangel, _any_ archangel. You could be my vessel, or Michael’s. It’s just that Michael and Lucifer decided independently that the older brother belonged to Michael and the younger to Lucifer, you know ‘ _as in Heaven, so on Earth_ ’ and all that crap, but it could just as well have been the other way around. Dean-o could just as well have been Lucifer’s choice, because according to what I’ve heard, Dean-o’s soul shines like the morning star.”

“What about my soul?” Sam asked depressed and Gabriel gave him a sad look, but didn’t answer. The hunter realized that he hated that look; he hated being pitied.

“What. About. _My_. Soul?” Sam gritted his teeth as Gabriel looked away, into the wall, and he knew that it wasn’t going to be good.

“So dark no one could see it,” the archangel suddenly confessed and turned back, seeing how Sam rubbed his hands over his face; he’d known it. He’d fucking known it.

“Is it true?” Sam wondered weakly as he pulled his hands away and Gabriel closed his eyes with a sigh.

“I don’t know. You’re protected by the sigils on your ribs…”

“Is there no way you can check?”

“You’re probably not willing to do it,” Gabriel confessed.

“How would you check?” Sam wondered harshly and Gabriel frowned, knowing that there were three ways; one pleasant, one neutral, and one painful. As the hunter wasn’t interested in men the pleasant one was out of the question, and as Gabriel didn’t want to harm Sam any more than he’d already done the painful one was out of the question.

“You could tell me ‘Yes’ and I would possess you. We’d go flying out to space so that I could find your soul if it truly is that dark, before returning here and I go to my own vessel,” Gabriel suggested, knowing that it was the neutral way, no pain and no pleasure.

“You’d really do that?” Sam questioned with narrowed eyes, “how do I know that you won’t leave me a drooling mess?”

“A drooling mess?” Gabriel questioned and tilted his head, “why would I ever do that? Your brother would find a way to rip my wings from my back with his bare hands.”

“Raphael’s vessel was just a mess, after Raphael left him,” Sam argued and saw understanding in Gabriel’s eyes.

“That won’t happen; I won’t let it. Raphael had to do that on purpose, maybe so that he would know where to find the willing vessel again if he needed it,” Gabriel frowned, thinking that it sounded like the hunter was willing to try.

“I see… What if you get tainted by me?” Sam wondered and made the archangel snort.

“You can’t actually do that, kiddo, but let’s assume you could. I’m a pagan, I shared my grace with Odin, giving him some of my grace, and Odin shared his pagan power with me, seeding a new source of power for me. He wanted to see my true form and lost an eye as a result, but I tainted myself with his power. You know an angel usually is bluish-white in color, well, I’m silver striped,” Gabriel explained and shook his head, “I couldn’t care less if I was somehow tainted.”

“What if you don’t want to leave?”

“Well, I’ve got a life as a pagan god, and I’m not going to start over just because I got a new vessel, besides I’ve got my vessel, I’m proud of it; I made him myself,” Gabriel grinned happily and patted his stomach as Sam tilted his head.

“You made it?”

“Yes, cell by cell; it took me over a hundred years,” the archangel stated proudly and waited for a new question.

“How about my memories? Would you be able to see them?” Sam questioned, knowing that if the answer was ‘yes’ then he could never allow Gabriel to possess him. He would never confess how much Gabriel meant to him.

“Yes, but it won’t be anything new,” Gabriel shrugged, and Sam looked away in shame; he couldn’t let Gabriel know how many times he’d masturbated to the archangel. “Now what do you say?”

“I can’t, Gabriel, I can’t,” Sam looked away and Gabriel tilted his head, waiting for an explanation, “I can’t put you through that. You would receive all my memories of Hell, Lucifer and the demon blood. I never want you to look at me differently, so I can’t say it.”

“It’s okay, Sam, you don’t have to say it now and I’m not going to force you. You can tell me in ten years if you change your mind then, and I promise to come to you,” Gabriel smiled a sincere smile and Sam thought that it sounded too good to be true.

“You’d really come?” Sam whispered, and a new wave of despair coursed through him; no angel had ever listened to his prayers before.

“I promise,” Gabriel whispered back, content that he could see tears forming in Sam’s eyes, thinking that they were from happiness or awe. Satisfied with his act, the archangel comfortably sank down on top of the human, unaware of how the friction caused Sam to grow embarrassed as he felt a rush of heat. Sam quickly felt himself grow hard so he pushed the archangel off, making Gabriel give up a protesting wine, but let himself be pushed off. The hunter got up and then looked through a drawer in the desk. Sam picked out a notebook and then a black crystal shining with grace. He quickly tossed the notebook back and held out the shining crystal to the angel.

“During my-, eh… _momentary lapse of judgement_ , I managed to get this,” Sam stated and gave Gabriel the crystal. Sam got back into the bed and pulled the cover over himself, seeing that Gabriel was holding the crystal with a content grin.

“It’s not Cassie’s, it’s Zaapiel’s,” the archangel informed with a shrug.

“Is he or she dead?” Sam wondered, thinking back to his own thoughts in the forest.

“Zappi’s alive, but her crash must’ve been rough if the ground contained this much grace,” Gabriel said as he made the crystal float over the room and into the drawer. The archangel buried his face in Sam’s chest and groaned as he felt the warmth of an untainted soul fill him. Yes, both Dionysus and Seraphiel had nice power radiation, but is wasn’t nearly as nice as the soothing warmth that seemed to radiate from Sam’s soul. Gabriel unlocked his celestial powers from their confinement, and immediately started purring. What Gabriel didn’t know was that he could feel Sam’s love for him, radiating through his soul and fueling him. Even Dean would eventually warm up to him and begin to love him deeper, as a family member.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Dean entered Sam’s room, seeing his brother sleep and glared at the menace that had made his way into the bunker undetected. The Winchester placed down a plate of warm pancakes, staring at the untouched potatoes, meat and vegetables, guessing that it was the archangel that had brought that one. Dean took the plate with cold food and left the room, hoping that Sam was going to get his act together soon.

* * *

Two days later and Dean found Sam sleeping alone on the couch in the library with the TV on. The older brother smirked at the fact that Gabriel had managed to chase Sam out his room by sleeping in his bed.

* * *

Gabriel waited and waited. He counted minutes and hours. Sleeping was best, as several hours would pass while he slept. They had headed out in the Impala again, to hunt something; a Chupacabra or something. Gabriel hadn’t listened when they were talking, but it was something about bodies missing blood. The archangel kept watching his somewhat new cellphone. Both Dionysus and Ceres had been surprised that he’d gotten one, but they quickly traded numbers and now Gabriel sat alone in the brothers’ motel room, throwing the phone into the air and then catching it.

´Found something?´ Gabriel wrote down and sent to Ceres, before throwing it again.

´If you think what I do is easy you can do it yourself,´ came the reply and Gabriel groaned, knowing that he didn’t have the strength to do it while he had the egg. The archangel groaned again in boredom and got up from the bed to explore the outside.

Gabriel closed the white door and walked along the entrances to the other motel rooms, then made his way along the parking towards the lobby of the motel when a car pulled in. Sensing a heavy presence, Gabriel turned to the car and leaned on the wall as he saw how a family with two young boys, twins, and a teenage girl exited the car, followed by two adult women.

Without speaking, the red-haired woman left the family and entered the lobby to the motel.

“I don’t care, mom,” the teenager daughter growled, answering a quiet question that her mother had asked, “I’ll rather sleep on the streets than home.”

“Maria, cut it out,” the mother hissed back and looked around, meeting Gabriel’s eyes. The woman picked up one twin on each arm, sending Gabriel another look. Seeing her mother’s face, Maria looked up to Gabriel, glaring at him and then turned her back to him, muttering ‘creep’. Gabriel immediately tilted his head, seeing a dark creature attached to the back of the teenager. The creature seemed to be made of black gas and had a humanoid shape, but it had its mouth open all the way back through its twisted neck. The creature bit into the teenager’s neckline and Maria absentmindedly touched her collar, but didn’t seem too bothered by it.

The red-haired woman showed up again, carrying two keys, half-running to the family. Gabriel watched as the family entered one of the two rooms next to each other. Humming to himself, Gabriel closed in on the room that the family had entered and then knocked. The mother opened and Gabriel tried to smile.

“Whatever you what, we’re not interested,” the mother growled and closed the door, but Gabriel put his foot in the door.

“Whatever tormented you has followed you here,” Gabriel smiled and then pulled away his foot, allowing the woman to close the door, but the mother just stared as Gabriel walked away.

“What the hell do you know about that?!” the woman opened the door wider, leaning out after the stranger.

“It’s attached to your daughter. I’m staying in room 14,” Gabriel waved and kept walking, knowing that he wanted to draw the creature, because it would probably interest the hunters. The creature was certainly going to continue tonight, and that woman was going to come running to him, looking for help wherever she could find it in order to protect her family.

Gabriel opened the door and walked inside his room, ignoring the woman staring after him.

* * *

The archangel was in the middle of drawing when the Winchesters walked in, followed by Castiel.

“Zup, archdick,” Dean greeted the archangel that was sitting on the bed and looked to his drawing, stopping disturbed at the image.

“What’s that?” Sam wondered, curiously approaching as Dean left to grab a beer out of the fridge.

“A malevolent spirit that was attached to a teenage woman that lives in room 24,” Gabriel hummed as he drew four eyes on the creature, “I told them that it has followed them here.”

“Great, you must’ve looked like a _really_ sane person,” Dean muttered as he opened the beer, “we found out that this Chupacabra, might not be a Chupacabra. Seven children have been found hanging from the trees, impaled, and the bodies were empty of blood and organs.”

“Might be some kind of forest creature,” Sam suggested and sat down behind the archangel to watch him draw, “there are a lot of forest creatures, and there are a lot of things that pray on children.”

“Yeah, children mostly have young souls, but a few have old souls. Children also have fresh meat, very lean,” Gabriel stated and then finished the drawing.

“Eaten a lot?” Dean wondered and saw Gabriel roll his eyes and stare at him as if he was stupid. The older hunter shrugged and turned away, guessing that he hadn’t, but guessed wrong. Gabriel was a pagan and had enjoyed pagan feasts with gods from many pantheons, many of whom ate human meat.

“We’re going to question the families tomorrow, asking where the children used to play, and find out where they could’ve come in contact with whatever it is,” Dean stated as there was a knock on the door. Sam went to open and found a blonde, frightened woman with a young boy in her arms, together with a red-haired woman, holding a second young boy, and a third blonde teenage girl.

“Is this room 14?” the woman stammered, knowing that it was, and stared up at Sam with distress and uncertainty.

“Eh… Yeah, come on in,” Sam stated and let the three women inside. The older, blonde woman immediately stared at Gabriel as she placed down her child.

“Who are you? How did you know?” she asked and trembled slightly as she pulled up the child’s shirt, revealing three long, bleeding wounds across his back.

“I can see it,” Gabriel answered and turned to the daughter, seeing the creature look back at him with two red eyes, “yeah, I can see you, you ugly little thing.”

“Me?” Maria asked shocked and turned her head around, realizing that the strange man was looking slightly behind her, but saw nothing even though she was eye to eye with it.

“Do I dare to ask what it looks like?” the mother questioned, and Gabriel nodded.

“It’s not that horrible. I’ve seen worse,” Gabriel shrugged and picked up his picture, ”it’s humanoid, four eyes, mouth full of teeth that opens back to its shoulder blades, three claws on each hand, four hands that it walks on. Like this.” Gabriel turned the picture around, making the humans gasp.

“If you can see it, you must know what to do about it,” the mother declared hopefully, and Gabriel tilted his head.

“That’s false logic, but yes I do know what to do about it,” the archangel got up from the bed, seeing the creature drop away from the teenage daughter, scuttled passed Castiel and crawled underneath Dean’s bed. A curious Castiel dropped to all fours and stared below the bed, hearing the creature hiss at him. All of the women moved away from the bed as they heard the noise.

“Can you see it too?” the mother asked and herded her children towards the kitchen part beside the door. Castiel sent a glance to the humans, seeing that it was him they were talking to, and then returned his gaze to the strange creature.

“I can see it,” Castiel informed calmly, watching as the creature cowered. Gabriel joined Castiel on the floor, making the creature hiss angrily again.

“What’s that noise?” Maria wondered and carefully got on all fours, seeing nothing underneath the bed.

“It’s just afraid,” Gabriel informed and curiously stared at it, “it is used to being in control, invisible and being able to feed off of fear and souls without the hosts even knowing.”

“Do we shoot it?” Dean asked as he calmly sat down on the bed opposite and peacefully drank his beer.

“Does physical objects even harm it?” Sam continued as Dean shrugged.

“Not wood or glass,” Gabriel hummed, “but steel, iron and salt will.”

“So the common stuff in other words,” Dean stated and pulled out his gun.

“What is it?” Castiel wondered, having never seen a creature like it before.

“A twisted human soul,” Gabriel informed, “it’s a half-demon, a ruhin, able to walk around, but needs to tether itself to something, but it hasn’t been transformed in Perdition. It was twisted by its human host while alive.”

“So what? It was a nasty human and now a half-demon, a ru-something?” Dean got down to the floor and pointed the gun underneath the bed, knowing that he had devil’s traps on every bullet.

“Pretty much,” Gabriel nodded and took Dean’s gun, not wanting to have the real police come because of gunfire.

“Hey!” the Winchester called out, but was then surprised when the archangel placed his angel blade in his outreached hand. With a content hum, Dean grasped the powerful weapon and looked underneath the bed, feeling how the mark on his arm burnt and his heart beat hard.

“How do I kill something I can’t see?” Dean wondered and struck out the weapon, making it swing underneath the bed and heard the creature there hiss.

“Cassie can make it visible,” Gabriel suggested and saw that the creature looked to his younger brother.

“How?” the younger angel asked and followed Gabriel that got up.

“Blast it with heavenly light, and it will glow,” the archangel backed away, seeing Dean get up and grab the edge of the bed, before throwing a look to Castiel, that nodded; he was ready. Dean flipped the bed and Castiel lit his halo. The creature hissed and crawled up along the wall, but Dean took a step on the second bed and threw himself over the creature, making them both fall to the floor.

Dean placed its head towards the floor, making the creature unable to open its jaws. It twisted and turned, trying to scratch the hunter as Dean quickly raised the blade, reminding Dean more of a crocodile than a human. The Winchester imbedded the weapon into the creature’s head, making the entire creature flash and then got off it. Gabriel approached and took the blade back before he poked the now dead, milky white creature, wondering if he could serve it up as something at his back-from-the-dead-party, but few pagans enjoyed ruhins; maybe he could just use it as some decoration.

“Is that it? Are we free now?” Maria asked and neared the dead creature, but her mother grasped into her shirt.

“You might have more spirits or half-demons at your home,” Sam stated and saw how the mother swallowed fearfully, “but this one is dead.”

“What are you?” Maria asked Castiel curiously, having stared at him since he lit up his halo, but her mother pulled her completely back to her.

“Don’t be rude, Maria… Don’t ask _what_ they are... _Who_ are you people?” the mother demanded to know, glancing fearfully between them. Sam smiled and held up his badge.

“Samuel Franklin, FBI,” Sam informed with a smile, “you can call me Sam.”  
“Dean Knight, FBI,” Dean smiled and held up his badge, “goes by the name Dean.”

“Castiel Waves, FBI,” Castiel dug around in his pockets and then sighed, “I lost my badge again.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean groaned as Gabriel broke down laughing, waving the small holder that he’d stolen only moments before.

“Lo!” Castiel reprimanded and then snatched the folder back, checking the badge.

“I’m Lo, Lo Laufeyson,” the archangel grinned and then approached the women to shake their hands.

“Olivia Rhodes,” the blonde mother shook Gabriel’s hand, “and these are my children; Maria, Liam, and Noah. And my sister; Sophia Wilkins.”

Gabriel shook all of their hands and then made a gesture to Castiel.

“He’s an angel, but if you tell anyone that we will all deny it,” Gabriel confessed and made Dean roll his eyes at the fact that he told the family even though they clearly knew that he wasn’t human.

“An angel?” Maria smiled then walked up to Castiel, bowing before him.

“Maria,” Olivia hissed, not knowing how a human should act around an angel.

“Thank you,” Maria smiled up at the angel, making Castiel tilt his head, not sure what she was thanking him for.

“Would it be completely out of the question to ask you people to come to our house and check if there are more entities there?” Olivia wondered and looked between the agents, “we can pay you for your trouble. How about a thousand bucks? Five thousand? Just, please?”

“Sure, we can ignore our work for a thousand bucks,” Dean nodded and then placed the empty beer can in the kitchen part of the room, “Sam.” The elder of the Winchesters threw the Impala key to his brother and then pulled on his suit.

“Are we going now?” Sam wondered and looked to the watch, knowing that he was hungry.

“Yeah, why not?” Dean wondered and made the younger brother shrug; they could probably order pizza to the house.

“Can you show the way to your house?” Dean requested and the mother nodded.

“Sophia and Maria can watch Liam and Noah,” Olivia declared.

“No, I’m coming with you,” Maria argued and made her mother sigh.

“Fine, you can follow,” Olivia sighed, too tired to argue, and knew how stubborn her daughter could be.

The group made its way outside and the red-headed woman grasped the two twin boys and headed to one of their own rooms while the group walked over to the cars.


	30. The Home of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets to kill stuff, but then doesn't, and it's Gabriel's fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: 2018-12-12  
> Words: 4 300

Dean followed the two women in the impala, driving out of the city and to a large, beautiful house near a small lake, but what the hunters couldn’t perceive was what the angels could.

Gabriel stared shocked at the house as he got out of the car.

“Holy shit, or maybe, unholy shit,” the archangel joked, making the hunters stare at him.

“What can you see?” Sam wondered as the family joined them.

“Black smoke, coming out every window and every door. We have a strong infestation of dark entities; something demonic, like devils, shedim or mazzikims, I don’t know yet, but it’s strong,” Gabriel stated and made everyone stare at the house in wonder.

“If I were human, I wouldn’t want to live here,” Gabriel huffed and pulled on his candy bag.

“If you were human?” Maria curiously stared at the trickster and saw that he shrugged, realizing that he’d inadvertently confessed to not being human.

“I’m a pagan god,” Gabriel confessed and then walked towards the home, sensing a heaviness with each step, so heavy that he had to stop halfway.

“Can you feel that, Cassie?” Gabriel wondered and turned around, seeing that Castiel was staring with fear on the house.

“I cannot enter these grounds,” Castiel stated and swallowed, before turning his eyes to the grass.

“Why?” Gabriel wondered even though he could sense the heaviness in his grace, but Castiel should be able to enter them.

“These grounds are unholy. These grounds will make me weaker than a human, it will draw my power away. The demons have won this residence,” Castiel confessed and Gabriel realized that he could enter the grounds as a pagan god and a strong archangel, but Castiel could not enter as a falling angel.

“Meh,” Gabriel shrugged and smirked at the fact that if he blessed the home as Loki, it would belong to him, giving him power.

The archangel took a few steps closer, only to stop, sensing a heavy presence. The door to the house opened up, invitingly, and Olivia growled before heading for the door, but Gabriel grasped into her arm.

“Don’t enter; they are attached to you and your family, feeding off of your souls,” Gabriel stated and smirked, “back away and see what happens.”

Olivia gave him a curious look, but began to back away from the house, glaring at it. No more had she gotten behind him before the door slammed shut. It opened again, together with every window. The door slammed twice more and the windows all in unison slammed trice.

“Oh, nice,” Gabriel grinned and the woman looked to him.

“What does that mean?” she wondered as Gabriel turned around to her. “It’s always three,” Olivia confessed and made the pagan nod.

“It is _always_ three,” Gabriel agreed, “it’s to desecrate the holy trinity, and to mock God. For every three knocks or slams, the house gets more and more unholy, strengthening them.”

“What? But there have been so many knocks!” Maria called out and Gabriel looked to Castiel.

“Do you want to call some other angels here to consecrate the ground, or do you give me the dominion over this house?” Gabriel wondered and saw that Castiel glared at him.

“If you use _those_ powers to clear the house, it will be an atrocity, no better than the dark malevolent entities,” Castiel argued and made Gabriel shake his head.

“Wrong! It would just become _my_ hallowed ground,” Gabriel stuck his tongue out, “not angels.”

“Wait, what’s the difference?” Olivia asked the pagan god.

“Well, if it’s _my_ hallowed ground, I can sense if any creatures of power enter my grounds and I will come here to banish it, because just like demons _I’m_ territorial. _My_ ground belongs to _me!_ When the ground belongs to an angel or to heaven, entities can enter, and no one will come to your aid, _”_ Gabriel smirked but then shrugged, “but I demand something in return for my work.”

Olivia swallowed and then looked to Castiel, seeing him shake his head; no one would come to their aid if they needed it.

“What do you want for your work?” the mother turned to Gabriel again.

“I want you to meditate and think of me, and thank me for your blessed home, the more you meditate, the stronger the area,” Gabriel stated and turned to the house, “you need to make an altar with a red candle, a golden platter, a sharp knife, incense and a copper chalice. You will burn the incense as you start. In the chalice there will be goat’s blood, just a few drops. You will dip a finger in the chalice and stroke it in your face; one line on each cheek, one on your chin and once in your forehead. You will tell the altar that you recognize Loki as your god and protector. You will thank me for my protection and then cut a small cut on your hand and drip a minimum of four drops of blood on the platter; a sacrifice to me. Hm, the more you sacrifice, the stronger I get. You will take the incense and dip the incense in your blood. You will thank me one last time and then you are finished. Takes approximately five to ten minutes for a quick prayer, twice each week. No more than four weeks may pass between the praying, or the consecrated ground will no longer be protected by me, actually, I might come here wondering why you stopped. And if you should know anything about pagan gods it is that they are… jealous and unforgiving...” Gabriel smirked at the human.

“The more you pray to me, the stronger my hold on your home becomes. If say a demon enters your home they will feel that this place is protected by a strong creature, stronger than them, and if they don’t leave, I will teleport here,” the archangel made a gesture to the ground, “you decide how large my ground will be by once every second month dropping goat’s blood around your property.”

The woman stared at the pagan god, before sending a glance to the angel.

“I want protection for my family. I don’t care how or what I have to do,” Olivia stated and Gabriel smirked, feeling his pagan powers roar; he wanted her soul. Then he heard Castiel.

“I do not wish for you to taint this house with your powers,” the angel declared and Gabriel bowed to him.

“Then call the angels you think are strong enough to battle this, the angels you trust, but they will fail,” Gabriel huffed, knowing that there wouldn’t be any angel that wanted to enter; not with the heaviness that he could feel radiating from the house. Even if they did enter, Gabriel doubted that they knew what to do other than to slay the creatures that resided inside the house.

“No!” Olivia called out to Castiel, making the angel hesitate, “I want protection! And if angels refuse, then I will find protection elsewhere! You said your name was Loki. Prove you are strong enough to protect my family. Clean the house of whatever it is that’s in there.”

“Hmm,” Gabriel stared at the woman and then smirked as he walked around her, making her follow him with her eyes. The archangel studied Olivia’s firm gaze and her soul. “Do you know who I am?”

“Loki, Norse god, son of Odin, brother of Thor,” Olivia’s voice faltered a little, as if she wasn’t certain of herself, “I have heard of you.”

“Good,” Gabriel clapped his hands and smiled, “where did you hear about me?”

“I’m a history teacher. Together with history we got to study a bit of religion, and then I’ve seen movies,” Olivia admitted and made the archangel chuckle.

“Know this; not everything that it written is true, and I would never destroy the world; it was just a joke among us gods that a prank would get out of hand,” Gabriel confessed and then made another round around the woman, seemingly considering something.

“You are a strong woman, with a formidable soul,” the archangel hummed and tilted his head.

“Thank you?” Olivia narrowed her eyes.

“You will not take her soul!” Castiel shouted from his place beside the cars, making Gabriel sigh and roll his eyes.

“I’m not talking about taking your soul, like ripping it out of your body,” he told Olivia, turning on his serous self, “I’m speaking about a mark. I would mark your body as mine, and your soul, making you able to call me whenever you or someone you love are in trouble. I would also be able to feel if you were injured. Car crash, robbery, burglary, hanging off a cliff, can’t finish your cakes, you can just call my name, and boom, I’m there, and I’m serious about the cakes. I love sweet stuff; candy, pastry, cakes, lollipops. Feel free to sacrifice some to me. Here’s the thing though, Heaven would not accept you. Praying to me and worshipping me is on the line, but if you carry my mark also, then you’re not going to Heaven, you’re going to Valhalla and there the Valkyrie will bring you to me.”

“I wouldn’t be able to see my children,” Olivia guessed and Gabriel stroke his chin.

“No, but you wouldn’t see your children in Heaven either, so it’s not a fair comparison.”

“What?!” Olivia stared wide-eyed on the pagan, “but we would be able to find each other in Heaven.”

“No, think of Heaven as a storage, every soul has its own box, they never share box. Yes, there are souls who manage to nibble a hole in their box and sneak over to other boxes, but there are angels watching over the souls, and they pick up souls that are in the wrong box and gives them a new one,” Gabriel explained and Olivia turned to the angel.

“Is it true?! Even if I go to Heaven, I will never see my children again?” Olivia questioned loudly.

“You will see your children in Heaven, if that’s what you want,” Castiel stated and the woman turned back to Gabriel, her eyes demanding an explanation.

“It won’t be your children. It won’t be their souls. It will be a reflection of what you want to see. Do you want to see your children, then you will see your children, but it won’t be _them_. It will be dolls, controlled by your own fantasy,” Gabriel explained and Olivia turned to Castiel again, seeing that the angel stared at Gabriel.

“What he said is true,” the falling angel then confessed and Olivia stared dejectedly at the archangel.

“No matter where I go, I won’t see my children,” Olivia blinked and stared into the ground.

“Well, this shit has gone on long enough!” Dean’s voice suddenly called out loudly and both Olivia and Gabriel turned to the hunters, seeing that Dean was leaning on the Impala while Sam stood beside him with his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to give the asshole your soul. We’re here to clean out the house, and if you need us again we can give you our phone number,” Dean stated and walked over to the two, glaring at Gabriel.

“Oh, really?” the archangel grinned amused and folded his arms over his chest, “then tell me what’s in the house, how to clean it out and how to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. I’ll wait.”

The hunter stared unamused at the trickster, realizing that Gabriel was going to be of no help.

“You know, Sam and I have been hunting all our life, most of it _without you_ ,” Dean huffed annoyed and Gabriel put his hands into a surrender.

“Sure, sure, you are clearly a capable being. I don’t want to cramp your style; show me how it’s done,” the archangel grinned even though his pagan part was frustrated; he really wanted the soul.

“First we’re going to set up shop. Then we figure out what it is, how to kill it and how to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Dean turned around to Sam, seeing that his brother was digging around in the trunk of the Impala.

“But you can’t teleport,” Olivia murmured with determination, “he can.”

“Don’t give away your soul,” the older Winchester argued calmly, “I did once, and it wasn’t pretty.”

“You gave your soul to a demon, Dean-o,” Gabriel raised an eyebrow, “she would be giving her soul to me, a god, with the powers to give her a paradise just like Heaven.”

“You are nothing but a pip-squeak. Are you even strong enough to purge the house?” Dean questioned and made the pagan huff.

“At least I can see what I’m going to kill,” Gabriel taunted and gestured to his eyes, making the hunter roll his eyes.

“Well in all honesty,” Dean turned to the woman, “I am all for free will. It’s your choice, but it’s a mistake.”

“Show me how you teleport,” Olivia stared at Gabriel and the archangel listened, “on the counter in the kitchen there should be a mug with flowers on it. It’s half-filled with coffee. Get it.”

Gabriel grinned and bowed before flickering and then presenting the cup. He’d flown inside, grabbed the cup and flown back out in less than a fraction of a moment.

“One cup, _delivered_ ,” Gabriel straightened and then poured out the coffee, seeing Olivia gape.

“If I blinked, I would’ve missed it,” the woman mumbled to herself, “what if you are on the other side of the planet? Would it still be as fast?”

“No, it would take a few seconds for me to arrive,” Gabriel confessed and saw the eagerness in her eyes.

“Seriously, Sam and I will clear out the house,” Dean stated calmly, despite sensing that his opportunity to kill was slipping out of his hands as he could clearly see that Olivia was going for Gabriel. 

“It’s my choice,” Olivia nodded to herself and then stared the pagan down, clearly not afraid of him, but Gabriel suspected that she just was unaware how a human should behave towards a pagan, then again, Gabriel had never liked it when his worshippers cowered in fear of him. He wanted them passionate, devoted and courageous.

“Then we need to have a small talk,” Gabriel smirked and then snapped his fingers, vanishing together with the woman.

“I don’t like this!” Castiel protested as the hunters didn’t seem to care about what his brother was doing.

“Neither do we, Cas,” Sam sighed and brought out the equipment to chase ghosts, “but you heard her; it’s her free will.”

“Free will means that some people will go against your wishes,” Dean sighed and got back to the car, grabbing the shotgun that shot salt.

* * *

Gabriel folded the dimensions, creating a small pocket, and in that pocket he created the illusion that they were in a small wooden cabin. A fire crackled in the fireplace and snow slowly fell outside the windows.

“Where are we?” Olivia wondered and looked around as Gabriel sat down by a small table. The woman walked up to the window and looked out on the snowy landscape.

“Even if I explained it, I don’t think you’d understand,” Gabriel informed and calmly watched how Olivia’s eyes narrowed.

“Try me,” she demanded and pagan nodded.

“We are outside your home, inside a blade of grass. I merely took reality, like a blanket and made a small crease in it, then I filled up the crease with the world that I wanted,” Gabriel explained and Olivia nodded.

“I understand the concept, but I don’t think I would understand the mechanics of it,” the woman guessed and walked up to the table. Gabriel waited as she’d pulled out the chair and sat down.

“What do you want to talk about?” Olivia wondered and Gabriel smiled.

“The mark I’m going to give you is usually given after worshipping for, sometimes, days, and now I’m not talking about your Christian praying and singing. I’m talking sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. You would’ve been given drugs in order to allow your body to reach ecstasy easier, then I would keep you there. Sex fuels us pagan gods. You, though the act of intercourse, would fuel my powers. Once you’ve given me enough I would’ve marked your hip or waist,” Gabriel smiled as he spoke, seeing Olivia’s eyes widen and she seemed both shocked and worried, “but I’m not like other pagans; I can mark you with the word ‘yes’ from your lips and a kiss.”

“Oh? That’s it?” Olivia wondered and Gabriel stroke his chin while staring at the human, clearly contemplating something.

“Well, we can do it the sexual way if you want to,” Gabriel grinned and his pagan powers sparked though him, eager to be fueled once more.

“Ah, well, I-, I’m married,” Olivia held up her hand to allow Gabriel to see the ring.

“Then a kiss,” Gabriel shrugged even though he felt slightly disappointed, “do you understand?”

“Yea, I’m ready whenever you are,” the woman claimed and Gabriel got up from the table, making Olivia do the same. Gabriel approached and the woman swallowed.

“Pull up your shirt,” the pagan commanded and Olivia pulled her shirt completely off, making Gabriel smile at her willingness.

“Where do you want your mark?” the woman gestured to her left side and Gabriel hummed, contently running his handover her smooth stomach to her side. The pagan tilted his head, finding a place where his hand fit perfectly, just above the waistline of her pants.

“This is a good place,” Gabriel purred and took a step back, “are you ready?”

“Yes,” Olivia said and swallowed. Gabriel smirked and raised his arm before snapping. The sound seemed to pierce every cell on Olivia’s body. The room was suddenly completely dark, as if they were standing in nothingness, yet, Olivia could still see the pagan clear as day. The pagan began to speak in a language she’d never heard and a silvery drop fell from the sky between them. The drop caused large silvery circles to form around them, creating an intricate pattern. Small lights appeared around them, as though the entire universe existed around them. Small lights, big lights, blue, green, yellow, white. Olivia looked around with amazement and felt safe; here no one could hurt her, this was home.

The woman suddenly realized that Loki had stopped murmuring and his voice had been replaced with the sound of violins. Olivia looked back to the pagan, seeing her new god smile at her. He seemed happy, pleased.

“Ready?” Gabriel wondered once more and Olivia nodded.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Do you grant me your body and your soul? For this, I shall forever be your god and protector,” there was an indescribable power within that sentence. Olivia could feel it throughout her entire being.

“Yes, I’m willing,” she stated with her voice strong, even though she was nervous.

“Good,” Gabriel took a step forward, seeing Olivia mirror him. They walked up to the middle of the circle and Gabriel caressed his hand over her waist, finding the same place that he’d wanted before. He looked up to her eyes and she nodded, carefully leaning forward. She was bold, and her soul was strong. Gabriel placed his other hand on her cheek and they kissed. Their lips traced over each other, sealing the deal that they both signed. Not knowing how long she was supposed to kiss, Olivia decided that her new god got to decide that. A sharp pain, like that of a needle, on her waist made her gasp and unknowingly breathe in Gabriel’s grace. Her left hand flew up to Gabriel’s, grabbing into it as he seared his mark into her hip. Gabriel breathed out grace, grace that Olivia swallowed and that he used to mark her soul as belonging to Archangel Gabriel, and not Loki. His eyes and halo lit up as he transferred the feeling of awe and wonder into her mind, overwhelming it until Olivia fainted. Gabriel caught the female in his arms and whispered in Enochian to the soul so that it would know its way to him, with or without the help of a reaper. Gabriel contently hummed and clothed her before he unwrapped reality, allowing him to manifest on the same spot he’d been standing before.

* * *

“Mom!” Maria called out and ran up to her mother that hung limply in Gabriel’s arms. The hunters both looked up. Sam walked up to Gabriel while Dean continued assembling their equipment.

“What is wrong with her?” Maria questioned the pagan and Gabriel laughed.

“Nothing, kiddo, nothing is wrong with her,” Gabriel gently laid her in the grass and then pulled up her shirt to reveal his mark, “but now she’s got an awesome tattoo.”

“Wow,” Maria moved closer and traced the lines of the tattoo with her fingers as Sam got to them. Sam crouched down and stared at the tattoo, memorizing it, but there was so much symbolism in it. The more Sam looked at it, the more he saw that he recognized. It looked a little like a mantel clock with a face of symbols, but nothing that displayed time. Around the face was a thick line of runes, and a snake biting into its own tail. If he tilted his head he saw the face of a wolf, but the wolf consisted of two smaller ones, one devouring what looked like a crescent moon and the other was eating a circle that Sam assumed was the sun.

“Let me guess,” Sam murmured and looked to the archangel.

“Jörmungandr,” Sam pointed to the snake, seeing Gabriel nod.

“Fenris,” Sam outlined the large wolf, and Gabriel nodded.

“Sköll, and Hati,” Sam pointed first to the small wolf that ate the sun and then to the one that ate the crescent moon.

“What more do you see, Sam?” Gabriel questioned, surprised that the hunter knew the names of his children and his grandchildren.

“Hel,” Sam murmured and pointed to a small face, wearing a helmet in a Viking fashion.

“How do you know?” Gabriel grinned and Sam frowned.

“She was half-black and half-white, so is the face with the Viking helmet,” Sam stated and Gabriel nodded.

“Sleipnir,” Sam pointed to the eight-legged horse that the face seemed to be riding, “and the rest of the symbols I have no idea what they mean.”

“This is vegvísir,” Gabriel stated and pointed to the face of the mantel clock, “it means path-finder and it’s so that I will always be able to find her. The second, above the face of Hel, means courage. It’s what I see in her. Every line has a meaning and is a blessing and a connection to me.”

“I see,” Sam murmured and watched as Gabriel pulled down the shirt to cover up the tattoo.

“Hey, Gigantor, take Dean-o and Cassie, and go work on your own case,” Gabriel commanded and grinned towards the house, “this one is mine.”

“Dean won’t like that,” Sam muttered as he got up, “I’ll talk to him.”

Maria pulled up the shirt to look at the tattoo again as Sam left and then turned to look at the pagan god.

“How long is she going to be out?” the teenage daughter wondered and pulled down the shirt to hide the tattoo.

“Until now,” Gabriel smiled and placed two fingers on Olivia’s forehead. The blonde woman rolled her head and groaned, before opening her eyes. She was move well-rested than she’d ever been, and she felt as if she’d been cocooned in warmth and safety. She sat up quickly and looked around, recognizing her yard and the people around her. As her eyes fell on Loki, she stopped and stared. There was something about him, something she could see. His eyes didn’t look natural, it was as though they were radiating with magic and power. Even his skin looked slightly unnatural.

“You can see it now, can’t you?” Gabriel grinned and Olivia nodded. The sound of the trunk closing harshly made Gabriel look to the hunters, seeing Dean glare at him. The older Winchester was clearly not happy, and Gabriel, with his celestial powers, could see that the mark was affecting him as it was flashing angrily on his arm, but the hunter was doing a good job of controlling himself.

“Hey, asshole,” Dean called out and then opened the door to the driver seat, “we’ll come back tomorrow, and if you’ve turned this area into chaos I’ll hurt you.”

“Bye!” Gabriel waved happily, seeing Dean give him an angry look, before getting into the car followed by both Sam and Castiel.

“What did he mean?” Olivia stared at the pagan god.

“Well, eh, without revealing too much about us I can tell you that Dean-o is the only human in the world capable of killing Knights of Hell, which even angels have a hard time killing. This ability is always active and makes him kind of cranky, especially when he doesn’t get to kill stuff, and now I robbed him of that opportunity,” Gabriel confessed as he watched the car drive off and then turned to the women. “Here’s a secret: neither the angel nor Dean-o knows that Cassie has the ability to purge this ability from him. It will happen naturally during angel-soul-sex if I can get them together, but Cassie is stubborn and Dean-o is a fucking moron. I’ll end up stealing a bow from a cupid one day if they don’t get their act together.”

“Is that why he seems so hostile towards you?” Oliva wondered and Gabriel nodded.

“The ability wants him to spill blood. Dean-o loves Sam and Cassie, so the bloodlust focuses in on me, making him hostile towards me,” Gabriel guessed and then turned to the house, wondering how he should purge it. What he wanted to do was run around the corridors and rooms and stab stuff, but it wasn’t very “god-like” of him. He should probably do it in some flashy way to establish himself as a god in front of the humans.

 


End file.
